It Ends Like This…
by HARPG0
Summary: When Yuuri is attacked, Wolfram comes to his rescue. The aftermath tests the fire Mazoku’s patience and his vow will lead him to make the ultimate sacrifice unless a certain double black steps in to stop it.
1. Chapter 1

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It Ends Like This…

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**Author's note**: I do not own _Kyou Kara Maou_, any of the characters, or the like. This story is just for fun and no profit. Don't take any of it seriously.

* * *

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We say "goodbye" one hundred times every day.

The trouble is, we just don't know it.

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Chapter 1

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"This isn't the first time we've done this…is it?" the blond asked, keeping Yuuri's right hand sandwiched firmly between both of his own. "Why does this keep happening? Maybe, it's me…?" He took a seat beside the royal bed which was covered in fine silks and ornate, gold embroidery edged sheets. "Or, at least, it feels that way…"

Wolfram sighed quietly, watching Yuuri's sleeping face. Exactly when the habit started—when he began conversing like this—he couldn't recall. But, pretending to talk to Yuuri when he was out cold always seemed to help for some bizarre, inexplicable reason. In spite of the fact that Yuuri always woke from these things blissfully unaware of the person who practically never left his side, Wolfram hoped that somewhere, deep within, the double black could hear his voice and rest assured that he was safe.

_Safe…_ The blond scowled at the word.

This unconscious state wasn't like all the others. It wasn't as though Yuuri had transformed into The Maou and handed out justice to the populace only to faint due to expending too much energy. No, it wasn't that way at all.

_Damn it!_ Wolfram really hated himself at this moment. He should have thought ahead, demanded more guards around the castle perimeter. After all, it was the Autumn Harvest Ball and the grand party would be starting in a few hours. Gwendal was overseeing the construction of the bonfire and Günter was there, too, to make sure no elderberry trees would be burned (because it would be bad luck).

Wolfram's fingers tightened around Yuuri's, fighting back his sense of failure.

But, it wasn't just them. Of course, they'd have strangers going to and fro throughout the castle: caterers, servants and ladies in waiting for the nobles, and…

_That pageboy… _

Wolfram squeezed Yuuri's hand hard. Most assuredly, Big Cimaron knew about Yuuri's kindness towards children. In fact, everyone did. And, the half human boy about Greta's age, dressed richly in blues and golds, who came up to them with a huge bouquet of mixed flowers knew how to bow respectfully. It was so well rehearsed, it should have been suspicious. Wolfram could see himself in a flashback, more bored than anything with the sudden delay of their departure to meet up with Conrad, which would be another dull meeting in his opinion, thanks entirely to the flowery gift from some lesser noble that he'd never heard of supposedly from "Caloria."

"Let's go, Yuuri," he could hear himself say as he buffed his nails against his chest.

"Don't be rude, Wolfram," Conrad admonished gently, suddenly standing behind the royal couple.

"Conrad! Hey, that saves us a trip into the castle." Yuuri just beamed at him and Wolfram could remember his lips turning downward. This day was getting worse and worse. The fancy dress ball would start soon and, thankfully, there would be wine—a lot of it.

Then, Yuuri leaned in Wolfram's direction, making the blond blush slightly. "But, you know, I have to agree."

"A-Agree?" the young Mazoku parroted. Rounded emeralds blinked, uncertain. The two of them were so close now. It probably wasn't proper in polite society, but he couldn't think clearly.

"Be nice, Wolfram," the double black said, smiling at the child now.

_Eh???_ The ex-prince couldn't believe what heard. He'd just been rebuked in front of some strange child and Conrad by his own fiancé, The Demon King! He gritted his teeth together and forced his breaths. _Wine…lots of wine tonight…!_

Yuuri accepted the gift, of course, with his usual goofy grin and a hand behind his head. A boyish laugh followed.

_Typical_…_it's just so typical of him…_ Wolfram grimaced as he lowered his head in defeat. But, he couldn't ignore—or maybe, it was "accept"—what happened next.

From behind, Conrad suddenly dove forward, separating the royal couple, snatching the flowers with one hand and the dagger hidden behind them with the other. Alarmed, Wolfram remembered grabbing Yuuri's arm and throwing the wimp to the ground to get him out of the way so he could draw his sword smoothly. Two expert swordsmen against a child seemed like sandblasting a soup cracker, but Yuuri needed protecting.

Protect.

Defend.

Shield.

"I've got him!" Conrad barked, the boy now pinned to the ground with his arm twisted behind his back and flowers being scattered by the wind. The dagger was silver, curved, and extra sharp.

It seemed as though the scuffle had attracted help. But, from the side, three men dressed in commoners' dark brown clothes suddenly dropped the leads to the horses they were taking to the stables only to run forward at them—all brandishing short swords that were once hidden in their thick, oilskin coats. There were screams and shouting. People were running in all directions. Distractions. They were drawing Wolfram's attention to random points until his eyes picked the man on the right, sword in hand. Conrad, letting the boy escape, took the center one, but the man on the left had Yuuri around the throat and, it seemed, shoved a fist into his neck. It was only later, once Gissela had been called in and a small crowd of his friends had been gathered, that they understood what had really happened.

Wolfram let go of Yuuri's hand to trace his fingers along the smooth silver collar that was now securely locked around Yuuri's neck.

_They put this on you, didn't they? And, now, we don't know how to get it off…_

* * *

The blankets shifted. He turned his head to the side out of habit. Ebony eyes opened slowly—staring into nothing at first and, then, _something_. He noted a sunny spot of gold that turned out to be Wolfram's hair.

"Yuuri?"

Awkwardly, the double black put a hand to his aching throat. He felt as though someone had punched him there hard. Memories were sketchy—images of fighting, shouting—a hodgepodge of feelings, but, mostly, Yuuri could recall the frightening moment the world had gone dark.

"Wol…f?" His voice was almost raw.

Yuuri squeezed the hand holding his. It was reassuring. Wolfram's other hand was sweeping away his black bangs to get a better look into his eyes.

"It's me," Wolfram tried to soothe with some nervousness behind it, "I'm here." Green eyes seemed worried and Yuuri could see it, sense it. "Are you feeling okay, Yuuri?" He was about to let go of the hand. "I really should call Gissela."

The double black shook his head and, instead, tightened his grip. For now, it was his lifeline. He needed Wolfram to hold onto because something was wrong. It was terribly, terribly wrong.

Black met green. He peered up into his face. "I feel…bad, Wolfram. Call for a guard to get Gissela, but stay…please?"

Yuuri closed his eyes as he felt more of his energy being drained away. Wolfram was fire, he was strong, and he was loyal. He was power. And, in this moment, he felt that losing his grip on Wolfram would mean that he would lose his strength in this world.

"Sure, Yuuri…I won't leave you."

The blond turned his face to the door and shouted, "GUARD! GUARD!"

The door burst open with two uniformed men trudging through. "Yes, Lord von Bielefeld!" and "Sir, how can we be of help?" came to Wolfram's ears.

"We need Gissela! Make sure we get her here as soon as possible!"

Both sets of light brown eyes turned to their maou. Twin nods followed. And the pair took off at a brisk walk.

"We're getting you help," Wolfram said, watching with growing alarm as Yuuri tugged at the silver collar in an effort to get it off.

"It feels like it's sucking me dry. Help me get it off, Wolf. Please…?" Yuuri said softly, struggling to push himself up into a sitting position. It took three tries, even with the blond's help, to do it. Then, fumbling against the smooth surface, he finally gripped it and tugged down.

Nothing.

"Wolf?" He turned to the fire Mazoku, eyes pleading. "Help me…please?"

The blond opened his mouth to speak but the door opened and Gissela, Conrad, Günter, and Gwendal entered—all with concerned expressions. Greta tried to come in, too. But, from the hallway, the royal couple could see Anissina escorting the child off in another direction.

Yuuri lowered his head and pulled again, his grasp was better but the results were the same.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. We tried to remove the collar last night," the green haired healer began. "But, when we did, the metal actually shrunk and we were afraid that it would tighten so much that it would constrict air flow and you'd perish."

Disbelieving, Yuuri's hold on the collar tightened. Easily, he could put his fingers under it and between his neck and the metal. If it had actually shrunk, then that meant that it was much looser from the start.

"We're having Anissina research the metal and the device around your neck." Gwendal approached Yuuri as he put his pinkie finger through a loop that was attached to it. The general nodded at the loop. "We believe that it's based on some kind of animal collar—draining you so that you would be more docile and more likely to come with them peacefully when they kidnapped you."

Wolfram's emerald eyes narrowed at the thought. "Well, I'm not docile and there's no way I'd let someone simply leave with my fiancé in the middle of a fight."

Yuuri, turning pinkish, waved Wolfram off. "Now…now….there's no need to get all worked up about this." He tried to smile his most winning smile, the one that always made Wolfram back down. "Anissina will figure something out and we'll get this thing off. Okay, Wolf?"

The blond simply shook his head. "This is so stupid!" He leaned forward into the collar and took the ringed attachment between his forefinger and thumb, twisting like a key with flames burning between the digits.

Yuuri's eyes rounded, seeing fire so close to his face. Wolfram, however, was undaunted. "If I can burn this part of the collar off, then the rest should be easy!"

"No, don't!" Gissela ordered as Wolfram tore the bit off but he collar began to shrink again. "Stop it!"

Yuuri tugged at the collar that seemed to shrink millimeters right from under his fingers. Wolfram stared in horror, keeping the twisted-off piece of metal in the palm of his hand. "Yuuri! No! I'm sorry!"

The double black looked frightened and helpless. Wolfram, too, tried to place his fingers underneath to, somehow, stretch it back. But, it was stronger than he'd feared. "Yuuri, Yuuri…Please forgive…"

On the other side of Yuuri, Gissela was doing her best to gage the shrinkage and, thankfully, after a minute of "nothing," she announced that it had stopped. Then, she turned to her long-time friend and yelled like a drill sergeant, "Don't ever do that again! Do you remember how we all panicked last night when we tried to file the damn thing off and it started constricting well before we got half way? The cut metal repaired itself and kept shrinking! I had guessed that melting would do the same thing. If not, I would have asked you to do it last night." She looked into the fire Mazoku's hand and saw the bent metal piece. "And, give me that! Thank you very much!" She snatched the fragment away. "We'll give it to Anissina and see what she can analyze from it."

Then, the healer smoothed out her trousers by brushing out the non-existent wrinkles—a little embarrassed from her outburst at someone who so clearly outranked her. "I'll…um…send myself or one of the other healers to come in to check on His Majesty once an hour. But, until Anissina can figure something out, no one is allowed to try to get the collar off. Her determined eyes went to Yuuri. "And that means 'nobody,' right?"

The young king nodded.

"Good."

And, with that, she left the room. The door shut firmly behind her.

Conrad, Gwendal, and Günter seemed fairly uncomfortable—sweating even—with a visibly shaken Yuuri and Wolfram watching the door and praying that she would cool off by the time she got back in an hour.

Gwendal flipped back his ponytail and said in a slightly impressed tone, "She can really be something when she's mad. Right, Günter?"

The woman's father swallowed thickly. "She's always been like that. Maybe, I should have been stricter with her all those years ago." He dabbed at his brow with a fluffy, white lace handkerchief.

Gwendal raised an eyebrow. "Actually, that was a complement." He smiled thinly at the closed door. He liked feisty women.

* * *

Yuuri could hear pipes playing and a drummer drumming up and down the halls of Blood Pledge Castle. The song was cheeky and a bit too cheerful—or, maybe, the pipers were just a little sharp.

"It sounds like they're having fun," Yuuri commented as he pushed his half-eaten bowl of chicken stew away on the tray. Usually, he loved it but his appetite just wasn't with him today. Thus, his determination to ignore the two yeast rolls sitting there staring at him.

"Yes, Mother decided to bring back an Autumn Harvest tradition that she enjoyed as a child. Though, back in her day, she would chase after the players and throw leaves at them. If a leaf catches into your hair, it's a good omen."

The double black smiled to himself, imagining a chibi version of Lady Cheri chasing after a drummer and pipers with pudgy fists full of brownish-gold leaves.

"So, what are you going to do today?" Yuuri asked pleasantly. "Train the troops?"

The fire wielder threw him an odd look. "We're still in the holiday season. My elite guard and some of Gwendal's have time off for the Autumn Harvest Military Social this afternoon. It's mostly an elaborate lunch which Big Brother Gwendal likes to call 'meat, meat, and more meat followed by meat.'" Wolfram smiled thinly at it—the first true smile he'd given in quite some time. Yuuri felt a bit better at it. He knew how miserable Wolfram had been since he'd tried to help by melting off part of the collar three days ago. The blond tried to hide it under a façade of bratty behavior. But the double black would not be fooled. For the past two evenings, Wolfram took an extra long time cleaning his teeth. (The brushing sound seemed to last forever!) He sat up for hours reading a history book in the corner of the room by the large window. And, both times—when asked—he insisted upon bathing alone. But, that didn't excuse him from escorting Yuuri to the royal baths earlier in the day.

"I said that you really should eat more," Wolfram repeated, eyeing the bowl and then the double black.

Yuuri shook his head. "For some reason, I just seem to run out of steam and it's too much effort to make my jaw move." He shrugged a little. "Besides, I'm not that hungry anyway."

Before he knew it, Wolfram was perched on the edge of the bed with the back of his hand pressed against Yuuri's forehead. "I wonder if you're getting sick on top of everything else…?" he murmured to himself.

Yuuri felt a blush at the contact and brushed Wolfram's hand away, much to the annoyance and irritation of the blond.

"I'm your fiancé, Yuuri. It's okay for me to touch you."

The double black narrowed his eyes. "Ask me before you do stuff like that, huh? People might think that…" He didn't finish the sentence. It was just too embarrassing.

Green eyes bore into him. "Think…what? That you might actually care for me?"

Yuuri frowned heavily and allowed his body to sink into the four pillows that were propping him up. "Please, Wolfram. I don't want to get into it right now. I just _don't_…" The last word came out roughly and his spirits darkened.

"Feel like it?" the blond finished for him. "Well, pardon me for showing concern for someone other than myself." His eyes shined angrily. "If word got out, it would ruin my reputation as a selfish loafer!"

"No, that's not it," Yuuri groaned, feeling drained already.

"Or maybe," the blond demon said, "you're blaming me for something else?"

"Wha-?" Yuuri was anger and confusion mixed together. "And what would that be?"

He shook his blond head, got off of the bed, and grabbed the tray so quickly that everything on it rattled. "Doesn't matter," he growled. "I'll take this back to the kitchen." And, then, at the door added, "And get myself a bottle of wine to forget…"

Yuuri pushed himself up on the bed, watching the door close. "Wine? Did he just say 'wine'?" He scratched his raven locks uncomfortably. "I know I made him mad…I know I did…but…"

* * *

That evening, feeling more worn out than before, Yuuri had to struggle to get out of bed. His armpits smelled like a boy's locker room and, in general, he felt oily all over. He needed a bath, badly, and decided to push himself to the point where he could make it to the royal baths on his own to clean himself off.

"First thing's first…grab my stuff…" Then, unexpectedly, he sat back down. Just getting everything ready to go would take effort. He sighed heavily to himself.

The short walk, which was usually not so bad, seemed to take forever. Yuuri tried to force himself to walk with a casual gait—and he managed it, too—but it seemed like he was cheating somehow. He could tell that two maids passing in the opposite direction believed he was checking them out. The young Mazoku women with lemon yellow hair giggled shamelessly and he smiled back sheepishly. _If they only knew…_ A little later, a trio of guards got the impression that he needed something and had a quiet debate amongst themselves as to whether or not The Demon King should be approached. Their hissing whispers hit a fevered pitch—making Yuuri want to crawl out of his skin. Thankfully, in the end, it was easier for the guards to just let him pass by.

And Yuuri was grateful.

Door closing behind him, Yuuri had his wooden bucket with his bath things inside perched in the palm on his left hand. He had a white robe on that was just like one that Wolfram owned—matching Christmas gifts from his mother, Jennifer. The only difference was the embroidery on the pockets—one saying "Yuuri" and one saying "Wolfram."

A splash.

"Wha-?"

"Who's there?" demanded a familiar voice from the rolling clouds of steam, followed by more splashing. Something was wading in water in his direction.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri called, "You're here?"

A pause while water sloshed in the Olympic pool-sized tub.

"Oh, it's you…" Disappointment dripped in his tone as the blond's features slowly materialized through the grayness. "Of course I am," he answered. An echo repeated after him.

Yuuri nodded at that and put his things down in the usual place. He hung up his robe. "I guess… you're still kinda mad at me, huh?" He moved lethargically to the small, wooden stool to scrub his body down. It felt like ages since he was able to take a seat. It felt so good to get off his feet.

In the tub, Wolfram approached with steam rolling in the background behind him.

Turning, Yuuri caught the pained expression in green eyes as Wolfram lied, "It's no big deal. Forget about it." The blond turned his back to him and waded out to the middle of the tub, steam curling around him—making Wolfram appear to be more of a mythical god than an earthly soldier. The blond hair had beads of water clinging. The perfect, lithe body with angled muscles that were well toned from years of swordplay stood out in a "come hither" way. And, even when angry, the most dangerous look he could muster had a sensuous shadow to it.

But Wolfram had just lied. They knew it. And somewhere, somehow, that hurt a little bit for both of them.

Yuuri hummed a non-committal answer, but couldn't stop wondering about himself and Wolfram. Why someone this beautiful—more beautiful than any girl—would be a willing fiancé to someone as ordinary as he was… The how's and why's simply escaped him. And while Yuuri was sometimes oblivious about matters in general, he was never so towards Wolfram's pain. He knew that he hurt Wolfram constantly—sometimes, on a daily basis—but couldn't help doing so. The double black saw himself as _honest_ and total honesty was the best policy no matter what. It was his Japanese nature that told him to disregard, ignore, and openly tolerate that which he disapproved of or that which made him uncomfortable. Adding "sorry" to the mix, though, should take some of the sting out of it.

The double black took a peek at Wolfram again. The handsome ex-prince was sitting with his back to him, arms stretched out along the length of the tub.

Yuuri sighed. His own arms, in contrast, felt like heavy weights attached at his shoulders.

Then, a glow against his chest.

"Wha-?" He almost fell backwards, startled.

The silver collar brightened with a blue-grey light. Almost immediately, strength drained from him and Yuuri wondered, briefly, if he could even sit upright on the wooden stool anymore. _If the kidnappers had taken me, surely, I wouldn't have had the strength to run away,_ he thought, lifting the collar away from his neck with his fingers.

"It's draining you again," Wolfram observed, coming out from the water

unceremoniously, not bothering to find a towel to wrap around his waist. "This happened before…when you were unconscious. Sit up and I'll help you."

"I…uh…" Yuuri tried to counter, but it would have taken too much effort to protect his modesty and pride. Just putting thoughts together required too much work. The double black's body sagged forward.

Quickly enough, he heard another wooden stool pull up behind him. Wrapping an arm around, Wolfram took Yuuri by the waist to steady him and gently poured water over the double black. The hair was next.

"Give it a moment and the glow will fade."

Yuuri could feel his body wanting to sag again. He struggled against himself.

"Hold still." Once Wolfram had the double black positioned again, Wolfram poured a small amount of Yuuri's shampoo, which smelled faintly of cocoanut, into his palm and lathered up.

"_Wolf_…I…uh…!"

He was shushed as the fingers made their way into his hair. The double black noticed that Wolfram was surprisingly gentle with him—scrubbing behind the ears, forehead, and down to the nape of the neck with little spiraled movements—hard enough to clean but more of a massage than anything.

Yuuri closed his dark eyes and allowed his head to fall forward with a contented hum. The fingers continued to work their magic and all of the troubles in the world faded.

Spirals.

Circles.

Creamy strokes.

Feather light brushes against his hairline.

"We need to tilt your head back."

The glow faded away and Wolfram poured water over Yuuri's lathered head to wash away the shampoo but was careful to keep it out of his eyes.

A towel appeared before him with Wolfram's abrupt words, "Blot your face."

The blond poured more warm water on Yuuri's back—drizzling it down.

"It was like walking in three feet of snow…just getting here," Yuuri complained.

"I bet," Wolfram agreed. "When I took hold of that piece of metal on your collar, I could feel the tug of something… trying to pull my fire magic out of me. It stopped when the piece melted and broke off. Then, still holding the fragment…I felt it again, but not so strong." He shrugged awkwardly as he took out a fresh bar of soap and rubbed it smoothly against the double black's back. "I'm…sorry…the collar…you know… I didn't mean to hurt you," he said regretfully. "I didn't think it would constrict."

"Oh? Was that the problem?" Yuuri asked, feeling relieved that his difficulty with Wolfram was only that. "I know you didn't mean to do anything bad." He looked over his shoulder. "You only wanted to help me. I know that."

Wolfram cocked his head to the side. "Well, I'm your fiancé after all…"

The double black groaned. "More of that 'fiancé' stuff?" Why now, of all times? Just when they were getting along, too! "Come on, Wolf," he returned with a tone of complaint. He just didn't feel like arguing the point. How many times in the past had they done that about this accidental engagement they were trapped in?

There was the sound of wood scraping sharply against the stone floor. The blond stood, resentful. "I see you want me to leave you alone again." The Mazoku took a folded towel that he'd kept in the wooden bucket with his bath things. He unfolded it with a single, angry flick and draped it over his own golden locks. "I'll see you tomorrow…maybe." He went for his robe on the hook and put his arms into it roughly.

"Aw…come on, Wolf," Yuuri called in a half-whine. "Don't be like that."

Wolfram ducked down to pick up a half empty glass of wine—the drink he'd promised himself earlier. He tipped the glass back and polished most of it off in one impossibly long gulp. He wiped his mouth against his wrist.

There was something heated, promised. A drop of the ruby fluid gave a shine to his lips but the eyes were shining, too—with resentment.

The door to the bath opened. "Tomorrow." Wolfram stepped through and stopped mid way ordering, "And don't get into the tub. I'm afraid you won't be able to get yourself out of it again…_and drown_! Hear me, Wimp?" He put the empty glass to his lips, tilted the thing back, and tasted the last few drops of ruby fluid. He wished there was more.

The door slammed.

"Not a wimp…" Yuuri countered out of habit, but he wasn't so convinced this time. Well, there was that, and the fact he was feeling cold and slightly soapy.

* * *

The double black made it back to his room feeling better than when he'd left. The fatigue was still there but tolerable for the moment. But, then again, the collar hadn't done much, either. He sincerely hoped that the 'blue-grey light show' wouldn't return, or, if it did, it would come back in his sleep when he wasn't likely to notice and stress out about it.

Trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, Yuuri opened the door with no idea who would be on the other side. It swung open and he peered from the doorway. True to his word, Wolfram wasn't there. The double black entered, looking around. He pushed open the closet and noticed that Wolfram's pink nightie, military uniform, and boots were all missing.

"W-o-l-f-r-a-m," Yuuri groaned as he put his bath things away. He'd made the blond mad again. _How many times was that?_ He'd lost count. And, now, he knew that it would be awkward when they met up next—probably at breakfast with Greta and the others. Yuuri didn't want it that way. But, truth be told, he wasn't sure what he wanted these days.

Too much had happened and it was almost impossible to think. He put a hand to his head.

There was a knock. "Hm?" Yuuri turned with a slight smile coming to him. Maybe, he was over his "mad." "Wolfram, would you quit being like that? Just come in."

Instead, a woman's face with green hair poked in. "Ah, I see you've bathed already. Great! I'll strike that off the list of things I want you to do." She examined her clipboard and narrowed her eyes at a line of text before checking it off in red ink. She was back in a good humor again and had forgotten everything that had happened. People avoiding her in the hallway, now, seemed to be a complete mystery.

"Oh…Gissela…" Yuuri tried to smile in a friendly way but it was fading fast. Gissela wasn't Wolfram. _Definitely not…Wolfram…_ The blond. Yes, the temperamental blond. His mind drifted a bit at that notion of "Wolfram" and "not Wolfram." Wolfram was a guy. No doubt about it—one hundred percent male. They'd bathed together too many times for him to not notice. Today, for instance.

_Now, if I had someone to date…someone like Wolf crossed with Gissela…_ the double black pondered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He noted the bouncy breasts under the white medical coat. _Girls_. Yes, he liked girls very much. All guys did, right? They were supposed to. _Even,_ he guessed, _Wolfram_, despite the fact that he'd never asked. And Gissela would definitely want him right back. _Who wouldn't want that blond's god-like body?_ They would meet up in the infirmary after everyone in the castle had gone to bed. And Wolfram would show up at the door for a reason…_some reason_. _Yes, he'd be there for a headache for something. And, then, Gissela would trip._ In all soap operas and mangas they trip, right? And, Wolfram, being Wolfram, would catch her. _He's a gentleman underneath it all._ After that, they'd be close—very close. Her plump breasts pressed against his sculpted chest. Wolfram's breath ghosting her lips. Lips almost touching. Wolfram would say something huskily like, "I'm engaged. We shouldn't be doing this." And she would say, "Yes, we can't be…like this…together." Drowning in his green eyes. Longing. A deep kiss would follow…slow, wet, warm…tongue. Her hands would slide across Wolfram's well-sculpted shoulders, tracing patterns down his back, and, in time, possessive arms would twine around his waist—pulling their heated bodies intimately together. Fitting together perfectly. They'd be on one of the infirmary beds, somehow, and Gissela, on her back, would look up to see Wolfram hovering above her. The antique neckchain would fall, beads scattering everywhere. Removing his white shirt slowly, agonizingly…_button by button…revealing perfect, creamy flesh_. The shirt would fall to the floor in a heap. And Wolfram would remain, straddling her—clothes gone now—with his lithe body breathing harshly with desire. Taking in the delicious sight below him. _He'd rip away her clothes, grab her hand, lace the fingers, and lean down—pressing her into the sheets—and then… Between the sheets they…_ Yuuri could feel the heat rising to his cheeks with the graphic image set before his eyes. _Cross…a-and cross…and…cross…_

Yuuri swallowed thickly at the "crossing." He could feel his face turning bright red.

A hand waved in front of Yuuri's face. "Your Majesty?" She came in close. "H-e-l-l-o?" she sing-songed. She snapped her fingers to get his attention.

"EHHH???" Yuuri ducked back in sudden fear that Gissela would, for some unfathomable reason, turn to him with a desperate expression and start kissing. The idea was repulsive. Because his heart felt… Yuuri shook his head like a wet dog.

_She really should leave now!_

"Sorry," Gissela apologized with a low bow. "You were staring into space and I began to worry."

"Oh…uh, yeah," he laughed with a hand pressed to his thumping heart. It was beating so wildly it was almost painful. "I was thinking of…" He had a sudden flash of Wolfram and Gissela—still in the throes of passion—pulling away from a heated kiss with a thin strand of saliva bridged between them.

He cringed. "Mind wandered…you know?"

Mentally, Yuuri kicked himself. What kind of dirty mind did he have now? He could practically hear moaning. And tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Your Majesty?"

Wolfram and Gissela together… Why did that image bother him so much when he was the one who thought it up? Worse yet, it was painful. And, logically, he knew that they were only friends. Yuuri tried to push it off. "I'm good…seriously, really…um..yeah, good," he blathered.

There was a brief silence as the healer's eyes slid over him. "Okay," she said, not feeling totally convinced that all was fine and good. "Why don't you lie down so I can examine you?"

Yuuri looked at her and, then, the bed. Back again. "Let's…_not_…"

A green eyebrow was raised at that until a thought struck. Then, playfully, she peeked around the room. "Where's your better half?" she teased lightly, trying to spot Wolfram as though he were playing hide-n-seek. "Or, did you two have another argument? Is he in a jealous mood and that's why I can't have you on the bed?"

"_Have me_?" Yuuri parroted in a squeaky tone. He was sounding soprano today. _Oh, hell! What if she wants me, too?_

"Well?"

"Not …that," he commented under his breath, but she heard him.

"Then, it shouldn't be a problem." The green haired healer took the young Demon King by the forearm as the bedroom door opened on its own with a wooden groan.

"Yuuri, I just came back for…" Wolfram, still wearing his white bathrobe, stopped in his tracks.

The double black looked from the arm Gissela was holding to the bed and back to Wolfram again. "Umm….Wolf! It's not what it…uh…seems… You gotta believe me." He was flushed, now, and breathing hard—just imagining all that Wolfram, in a jealous rage, would do to him.

Wolfram approached, looking serious, but, at the same time, plucking up courage. "What's wrong with him?" he asked Gissela, but the tone seemed more like an order.

Seeing the sincerity in his emerald eyes, Gissela couldn't help but smile. "I was just trying to assess the situation when you came in on us."

Yuuri felt himself panic. _The two of them! Here! And…and there's a bed. But, I'm here, too. So, nothing could happen. And they're just friends and everything. Not that I'm jealous or anything because there's nothing between me and Wolf. And there's nothing between Wolf and Gissela. So, that's that. But it's all weird and all. But I can't help but wonder… AM I LOSING MY MIND??_

"Wolfram…" Then, his eyes floated to the healer. "Gissela…"

Both said, "Yes?"

The collar lit up with a blue-grey light and Yuuri's legs buckled instantly. He hit the floor, scraping skin off his knees, before the pain came to mind.

"Your Majesty!"

"Yuuri!"

The double black shook his head. "It's.... It's okay." Those were fine words, but his body wasn't inclined to agree. Instead, he was doing all he could to keep himself upright. Seconds later, Yuuri crumbled down to all fours, physically struggling and thinking to hell with his dignity he was not going to fall again.

With firm and swift motions, Wolfram slipped his arms around him and pulled. Before it fully registered, his own hand now tugging instinctively at the silver collar, he sensed his body rising up and being carried like a bride over to the royal bed.

"It's happening again," the healer said in her clinical tone. She observed the collar and Yuuri's sudden collapse on the bed—too weak to even hold his head up. She made notes on the clipboard.

"It happened in the bath, too. I hate this thing!" Wolfram barked as he knocked Yuuri's hand aside and slipped his own fingers—both hands—under the thick, silver-toned band. Breaking part of the connection between Yuuri and the collar, the device switched hosts and chose to siphon off power from the fire wielding Mazoku instead.

The tug grew stronger as it drew energy from Wolfram.

The healer noted the changed expression on Wolfram's face, a growing exhaustion. She turned to Yuuri. "Is this helping at all, Your Majesty?" Gissela asked.

"Yeah…a little bit. But I can still feel it on the back of my neck."

Wolfram nodded. "It's starting to feel like I've been riding my horse all day. I'm growing tired from this much contact." He glanced sideways at the healer. "This was probably fashioned so that their prisoner would be too weak to escape and, in time, talk or even cause a fuss."

"Agreed," the woman sighed into her clipboard. "But the question is 'How do we get it off?' The clasp's jammed into the collar…making it a solid piece."

"Anissina's still working on the problem, right?" Yuuri breathed, closing his eyes in relief as the glow faded away.

"That's true, but we're not sure how long you can be exposed to this before…" She didn't need to finish the thought. Wolfram touched her arm and shook his head "no." He didn't want Yuuri to worry needlessly. They were going to find a way out of this mess. He was determined to make that happen.

"It's okay," Yuuri assured, peeking a little at the two of them and feeling deep gratitude, now, for the way they looked out for him. What an idiot he'd been earlier with his imagination running wild. "It will turn out fine."

"Of course, it will." The blond said the words and Yuuri knew that he meant them. He knew that he would, at least for tonight, sleep well with Wolfram's support backing him. And that brought a special, meaningful reassurance.

* * *

Ten minutes had passed since Gissela excused herself for the evening, heading back to her quarters—leaving Wolfram free to poke around in the closet wearing a very business-like expression.

"What are you doing, Wolf?" Yuuri asked, now propped up on the bed with four pillows and a cup of piping-hot green tea on the nightstand. If nothing else, he was enjoying the wafting aroma with his hands resting lightly against his chest.

"I forgot socks when I came in here earlier. I'll just get them and go."

Yuuri frowned slightly at that. "You don't have to…" He shrugged. "Go, I mean… You can stay in here tonight."

Wolfram stopped, a pair of thick socks in hand, and gave a wary look.

The double black seemed somewhat taken aback by the reaction. "I'm serious."

"Well…" He eyed his potential bedmate. The young man was just lying there and not drinking his tea—which was unusual. Yuuri almost lived for his nightly cup of green tea. "You might be better off with someone here tonight…possibly…"

Yuuri tried to give a reassuring smile. "I'm okay… It's not like I need babysitting or anything." His dark eyes seemed to dim when he asked, "…And can you hand me my brush? My hair's still wet."

The double black sat up when a brush was tossed carelessly into his lap. On some level Yuuri was happy that the blond wasn't giving him any special treatment—especially since falling onto his knees and needing to be carried to bed, a sudden invalid. What he wanted, now more than ever before, was some sense of normalcy. He needed routine and something…_something else_…to hold onto until he got past this evening…_this_ _situation_. It was almost a craving of the soul for the intangible.

Wolfram went back to digging in the closet. "I've got my spare uniform in the back and a new pair of boots I'm trying to break in over in the corner. I can wear those tomorrow…" Hangers slid back and forth against wood. "I can wear, for tonight, my military night shirt. It's white and cotton…easy enough to sleep in because I don't really feel like going back to my old quarters just to retrieve the clothes I pulled out of here a little while ago…"

Wolfram sighed to himself as he shed his bathrobe. There was something about putting his night clothes on—something that allowed him to drop most of his worries with the exception of the ones that centered around Yuuri and Greta.

The blond scooped up the robe and draped it on a chair. He gave a side glance to Yuuri. _I wonder, will he sleep well tonight? He hasn't in awhile._

The ex-prince had just opened the window a crack, the room being stuffy, when a brush flew past him.

Instantly pissed, "Oi!" Wolfram protested. He didn't like the dark brown, prickly, projectile being hurled his way when he'd done nothing to deserve it. "What, the hell, was that for?!!"

Wolfram, arms akimbo, turned to see Yuuri with only the right side of his wet, raven hair combed back. It looked strange and, keeping a wary eye on the double black who had his head turned down toward his lap, Wolfram picked up the brush from the floor cautiously.

"So…what's going on?" the blond asked, approaching Yuuri's side of the bed. He didn't get an answer. And, for some reason, that wasn't surprising.

Wolfram twirled the wide brush in his right hand. "Something?" He tilted his head to the side.

"I'm…tired…"

_He said… 'I'm tired.' So…?_

Then, the words registered.

Wolfram nodded as he hitched up the long night shirt and took a seat directly behind the double black, making the bed dip backwards. "Well, Yuuri, you can't be that 'tired' if you managed to throw this."

Slim fingers found Yuuri's chin, before the young king could protest, and tilted his face upward. Head straight now, Wolfram began to comb back Yuuri's hair. Each stroke was soft and even—almost a slow rhythm of sensation with a velvety touch lingering.

"You'll be fine," he soothed in a voice Yuuri didn't think Wolfram was capable of. "And this will fade from your memory soon enough if you don't dwell on it too harshly."

"Wolfram," Yuuri groaned back, fighting frustration again. "You don't get it. You can't possibly…"

The blond continued to bush his hair: over the ears, nape of the neck, down the back. Simple strokes. Even strokes with a lingering touch of softness.

"I think what you're trying to tell me is 'It's easy to say that this situation will turn out fine when it's not happening to you.'"

Yuuri opened his mouth to deny it, but couldn't. The blond was right.

"You know," Wolfram went on casually, "I've been injured a number of times. Twice, before you came here, I was bleeding so badly while on patrol…battling bandits who had an ounce of talent… I wondered if I would …" The blond stopped abruptly and then went back to brushing, his eyes drifting to the past. "Anyway, when the healers found me, they'd always say the usual… 'We'll get through this.'" Wolfram chuckled without any mirth. "But, it was never 'we.' It was always 'me'…on my own…and, then, there's the servants who come to care for you…a steady stream of faces…" He brushed the nape of Yuuri's neck again. "Sometimes, Mother and my brothers would visit…but I'd try to send them off. I loathed the way they'd look at me…the guilt…." Wolfram sighed. "So, I can say, in all honesty, I understand you. It probably doesn't make it feel any better but…"

Yuuri smiled slightly at that. "It actually does…"

Then, the double black's eyes widened as two warm arms wrapped him from behind. Wolfram was now sitting in a position to where his right leg was next to Yuuri's, his left next to his left, and Wolfram's warm torso was pressed against Yuuri's back.

How did that happen?

The double black could feel his heartbeat speed up at the contact.

"I'm your fiancé, Yuuri," the blond said, resting his chin against Yuuri's shoulder. "And, I know, if things were reversed…you'd do the same for me. You'd take care of me. You wouldn't just pass me off as a burden for the servants."

Yuuri took a shaky breath and closed his eyes as the arms gave a gentle squeeze. But, some part of Yuuri wanted to cry because he was afraid of that question. _If things were reversed, would I really care of Wolfram the same way?_ He didn't want to think of it because he didn't want to answer. He was ashamed.

"This is what it means to be in a relationship, Yuuri. The good and the bad. That's what we share. That's who we are."

Yuuri turned his head to the side to see Wolfram's face. "This…is?"

Wolfram gave a warm smile laced with amusement. "Of course it is. What else did you expect?"

Yuuri squirmed a little, making the arms loosen around him. It made him wish, for the moment, that he hadn't allowed Wolfram near him in the first place. "Well…you know…" He shrugged awkwardly. "Couples have…" He blushed. "You know! Together, they…when they're alone…"

Wolfram laughed. "Sex?"

Yuuri blushed to the tips of his ears making Wolfram's amusement rise a few notches. But, he held himself back from laughing.

"There's more to life than sex, Yuuri…more to a relationship than that." He leaned in, brushing his cheek against Yuuri's. "If you think that's all there is, you'd be missing out on a lot."

Yuuri glanced back, slightly confused and slightly impressed. "How do you know?"

A grin. "Because, when I was young and stupid…I thought sex was all there was. Well, that and flirting shamelessly to get what I wanted," he admitted with some embarrassment. "Later, when it was far…far too late, I learned differently and regretted it. But, being The Selfish Loafer, I had to keep up appearances, too." He quirked a grin. "Maybe, I still do…"

"You loved someone?" Yuuri's heart hurt at the realization. It didn't seem fair somehow. Wolfram was, obviously, older and more experienced but... _A former love? _That made him feel lonely and, worse yet, uncomfortable. The words "woefully inadequate" also entered his mind.

"Not exactly. I didn't love someone…" He could smile at the memory now. It was okay to do that. "Someone loved me…unselfishly. I just didn't figure it out until the funeral and the letter left behind for me…written a week before the incident…asking for my heart." Wolfram ran his fingers through Yuuri's black hair a final time. "After that, I decided that if love came my way a second time, I'd take notice of it…appreciate it…and accept it humbly with both hands." Wolfram squeezed Yuuri again. "And, you're making this kingdom a peaceful place so that no noble will ever die from having their castle invaded…plundered…and their forests burned to ash…ever again."

"Is that what happened to…?" Yuuri asked, uncomfortable.

A nod. "Part of the reason why I hated humans… Never would I dream that I would fall for someone who was half-human," he admitted.

The blond offered his fiancé the brush again. "I know this situation is frustrating…a collar that we can't take off yet."

Yuuri shrugged a "yes."

"I just want you to know that it's okay to be angry, Yuuri." Wolfram rocked him a little—both of their bodies swaying slightly to and fro. "And you can yell if you want to. I won't judge you. I've felt that way many times myself."

Yuuri chuckled slightly. "Holding back has never been a problem for you."

"And you hold in everything." A frown between his eyes followed. "But, if it's just us," Wolfram went on, "then…it's okay to be mad. So, go ahead…throw it again if you need to."

The brush remained in the palm of his hand, bristles up.

"No thanks." The warmth came back and his smile reflected it. "I don't think I need to anymore."

"We'll work things out…somehow. And, I promise, I will do whatever it takes to free you. Rely on this…and me. It's my solemn vow…" Wolfram said while getting up and placing the brush on the nightstand.

"My white knight," Yuuri muttered to himself in amusement.

"Tea?" The blond offered the cup.

Yuuri shook his head "no." It was probably stone cold by now anyway.

"Are you sure?" The young Mazoku regarded him again, a hand on his hip. "Or, do you want to talk a bit more?" The determined body language and questions were so typically "Wolfram."

"I'm tired," Yuuri explained, thinking that they'd probably said too much to each other tonight anyway. "And I just want to go to sleep."

"Not a bad idea."

With a flick of his hand, the fire wielder extinguished all the candles in the room and whispered, "Until tomorrow...when we find a way to free you…" The double black smiled to himself as he snuggled in because he knew that Wolfram truly meant those words.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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Yuuri woke up to shivers and the fading glow of his collar. Soon enough, it was pitch dark in the bedroom, making him feel worse—if that was even possible. _Gotta be the middle of the night_, he guessed, pulling the covers over his shoulders to keep in what little warmth he could. But the slight breeze from the cracked open bedroom window had been blowing right on him, creating a bone chill. And, even now, with the brief puffs, his face had goose bumps that made it all the way from neck to cheeks to hairline.

The double black tried to move so that he could get to the window to shut it. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to. The comforter was made of heavy layers of goose down. And, even if it hadn't, he would have had a hard enough time just swinging his legs over thanks to the collar's latest efforts in draining him. It felt like he'd run a marathon.

_No choice,_ he grimaced.

This really wasn't something he wanted to do but the shivers brought him back to the problem at hand. That icy feeling just wasn't going away. And, at this rate, sleep—something he was desperate for most of the time now—was not going to come to him unless he acted upon the situation.

"W-Wolfram?" Yuuri whispered, voice trembling. "Oi…Wolf?"

Much to Yuuri's surprise, the blond ex-prince popped up right away without a word of complaint. He sat up while rubbing the sleep out of his left eye and surveyed the room with his gaze, finally, landing upon Yuuri himself who was little more than a shadow in the darkness. "Something?" he asked in a graveled undertone. He flicked his hand and two candles in the room sprung into life—casting gentle shadows.

Raven eyes blinked stupidly until they adjusted to the light. "Uh…yeah…" Yuuri put a hand behind his head and tried to smile sheepishly, as was his habit, until another bout of shivers got him. His lip trembled. Maybe, they were turning blue? It was impossible for him to tell.

"You're sick," Wolfram said and was about to touch Yuuri's forehead when he stopped himself. It was awkward, an arm half-stretched and long, pale fingers waiting to touch the double black. Instead, Wolfram retracted his arm with a bitter "I apologize."

Yuuri's eyes widened with realization. Wolfram hadn't been given permission and would not so much as lay a finger on him. But, he had brushed his hair only a few hours ago. And, to Yuuri, that seemed much more _personal, _more intimate.

The blond sat up in bed, cross legged, placed an elbow on his thigh and his chin in his palm. "What do you need?" he asked abruptly. "If you're unwell, I'll send a guard to find Gissela."

Yuuri shook his head. "It's no big deal but…" Now, he felt stupid or was it helpless? Both?

"Well?" Wolfram asked impatiently, about two seconds away from losing his temper.

"Ah…well…uh…" He thumbed at the window. "I'm a little bit…_freezing_. The draft is bad over on my side."

The double black squirmed inside. He was expecting a protest from the bratty prince loud enough to wake the whole castle in the middle of the night. It would certainly be like him. Instead, Wolfram pushed away the blankets, padded across to the window, and simply closed it. There was a brief "click" of the window lock. "If that's all…then…" He covered a yawn as he walked back, not bothering to glance at his bedmate.

Yuuri felt the bed dip. He snuggled into the covers even more. He was still shivering, teeth chattering, and his feet were frozen. "T-Thanks, Wolfram."

"G'night." A pale hand waved in the air and the candles extinguished.

Toss.

Turn.

Shiver.

There was a soft rustling of the covers. The blond turned onto his side, away from the double black, and tried to drift off. And he would have done so, too, had Yuuri warmed up. But, clearly, he hadn't because the bed was still trembling with uncontrollable waves of shaking.

Wolfram tried to ignore it all but it kept happening—again, and again, and again.

The blond flopped back onto his pillow with an annoyed, "Yuuri?"

"Huh?"

"Still cold?" he asked in an annoyed tone, knowing the answer before even uttering the words.

"Well…kinda…"

The candles lit themselves again, blazing hot this time. Little black wisps of smoke twirled up.

Wolfram sat up with a half glare. "_Kinda?_ What to you mean… 'kinda?'" It was enough to make him pull at his hair in frustration. "You can be quite difficult. Do you know that?"

"A-And, you're one to t-talk?" He shot back with chattering that almost made him bite his tongue. Wolfram was, in fact, the very definition of "difficult."

"Well, if you're going to be like that, then…" There was a sudden bunching of covers and Wolfram's head ducked under. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like something was tunneling under the covers in Yuuri's direction. Then, another "something," which was warm and inviting, grabbed his foot—it felt like a slender hand.

"Ugh! What's going on?" Yuuri pulled back both feet and, then, Wolfram popped up next to him on his left side.

"Your feet are freezing, even with socks on. Face it…you're cold." Wolfram stroked Yuuri's shoulder and could feel the cool body through the material.

"Uh…w-well, yeah…. That's why I asked you t-to shut the window."

Wolfram sighed, frustrated. "It looks like we're going to get into another fight right now."

"Whatever for?" Black eyebrows knitted together. This was the first time that the blond had predicted a fight before it actually happened.

"Because…I'm going to do something you're going to hate…for your own good." And, with that, Yuuri felt his body being turned, rolled, and repositioned.

"W-Wolf?" He squeaked the name as his face flushed.

Arms entwined, holding the double black around the neck. Yuuri's body was under Wolfram's and he could feel every breath the fire Mazoku took.

"W-Wolfram?" he squeaked.

"Not now, Yuuri. Let me concentrate."

The double black couldn't believe it! Wolfram had never been so bold before. And, he'd even been warned ahead of time that he wouldn't like it. His mind and body locked up.

"I think," Wolfram said darkly, "this should help you out."

"_Help…me???"_

"Accept this."

His eyes widened. This couldn't be happening. "P-Please, Wolfram…don't…"

"Shut up."

At first, Yuuri thought it was his imagination. But, soon enough, Wolfram's body temperature began to rise—warming the two of them as they embraced. It was calm. It was like lying in the sunshine on the roof of the high school. He could almost imagine the blue sky looking down on him from overhead and hearing the voices of his friends in the background.

"And, tomorrow…" Wolfram added as he rested his head on Yuuri's chest, "you can go back to hating me."

_Hate? Wait, no! It's not "hate," Wolf…_

"So, let's just call a truce until you quit shivering."

The room fell into darkness once more.

Warmth continued to flood them both. It was soothing and gentle. Wolfram closed his eyes, content that he was able to do something useful.

Raven eyes closed_. It feels…so good…_ the double black smiled. _And Wolfram, so close like this, smells like sunflowers._

Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, very possibly something "wimpy" when Wolfram turned his head away with a quiet, "Just save it. I already know what you think of me. So, go to sleep, Yuuri." But he grumbled under his breath, "It's not like I would ever force myself on you, sheesh…"

Yuuri felt embarrassed at the words but admitted _He's…right. Wolf would never hurt me out of spite or selfishness._

The double black opened his mouth again to speak and Wolfram shook his head "no." The blond would have none of it: annoyance, blatant irritation, begrudged compliance, politely-worded "Yuuri-half-lies," etc.

_Well, if you won't let me speak…then…_

A hand reached for Wolfram's golden locks and patted them at first. Feeling braver, the double black continued on. His fingers delved into the soft hair and made gentle strokes going down, repeating.

_Not exactly a brush, but…_

Green eyes widened in shock. "Y-Yuuri?" He raised his head slightly to stare at his bedmate, but the hand pressed his head back onto the blue pajama-covered chest.

_Good night._ A hug followed. _And thank you._

* * *

The next morning, Yuuri woke to find himself cuddled against Wolfram's warm back and the door pounding with Günter's usual and melodramatic "Heika? Are you awake, Heika? We need to review your schedule for the day."

In front of him, Yuuri noticed that the blond tried to bury his head deeper into the fluffy pillow.

The knocking continued.

"Go away," he growled into the pillow this time.

More knocking.

"You noisy bastard," Wolfram griped as he pushed himself up on one elbow, running a hand through his mussed-up hair. "It's too early for this." The white night shirt, which unbuttoned itself down the front at some point, slipped off of the blond's pale shoulder and, from behind, Yuuri took the initiative to push the sleeve back into place.

"Hm?" Confused eyes looked at Yuuri.

"It's no big deal." But, for a half second, Yuuri knew that he'd been tempted to caress the pale shoulder that was inches from his nose. Why he felt that way was beyond him. So, instead of dwelling on it or analyzing, he'd taken the "enticement" out of his way by pushing the sleeve back.

"Heika?" Günter said cheerfully as he entered on his own, without invitation. His snowy robe fluttered along with him.

"I knew I should have locked that door," Wolfram griped to no one.

"Because I've told you _not_ to…a dozen times," Yuuri hissed at Wolfram, "because people…would think…ya know… _strange thoughts_ and…"

Green eyes narrowed at Yuuri as Günter approached the bed. What the blond really hated was being reminded of his personal "Yuuri problems" so early in the morning. He snapped, "Everyone knows about the way we really are together, Yuuri. Your denials only make things worse."

The double black practically had the wind knocked out of him. Those words could have been taken one of two ways—neither message was reassuring or comforting. The young king swallowed hard and glanced to the tall adviser who was waiting with large, almost wobbly eyes.

"Heika?" Günter said, hoping to get his beloved maou's attention. "The schedule?" he prodded hopefully with hands clasped against his heart somewhat theatrically.

"Schedule?" Wolfram said in an annoyed tone.

"A schedule is a plan for one's day…Not that His Majesty's has anything to do with you…besides meals," the adviser stabbed back in an undertone, making Yuuri squirm in the covers.

Why did those two have to bicker? It pressured him to take sides.

At that, the blond raised himself up higher on his elbow, seething, and every candle in the room melted down—crying wax tears.

"Oh, really? Well…as fiancé, I'm pulling rank." The blond got out of the oversized bed, put his hands on his hips, and stood defiantly in front of adviser.

"What do you mean… 'as fiancé'?" Günter said with mild surprise, cocking his head and beautiful lilac hair to the side.

The blond tapped his foot impatiently, the way he always did with his soldiers when they didn't catch on quickly enough. "I'm saying that my fiancé, The Demon King of Shin Makoku, is feeling unwell. And, as our culture dictates, I'm taking charge."

"What???!" Günter couldn't believe it. Appalled, he turned from Wolfram to Yuuri and back again to see if this was really going on.

"He," Wolfram emphasized with a finger pointed at Yuuri, "is still not…well." Yes, that would be the way to phrase it—"not well" instead of "drained" or "weak." Because Yuuri would never be weak and defenseless under his care. "So, this is what we are going to do." The blond counted off on his slim fingers. "To begin with, I'm canceling morning jogs until further notice. I'm also limiting Yuuri's paperwork to one hour each day with my assistance during that hour." Then, he smiled wickedly at the adviser. "And Yuuri's lessons with you will be thirty minutes, followed by a fifteen minute break, and then another thirty minutes of lecture." Wolfram thought, for the briefest of moments, he could hear Yuuri's soul cheering. He glanced back to see the double black hiding his face behind the bed covers. But the raven eyes were clearly smiling at him.

"Heika!" Günter pleaded, trying to go around the stubborn fire wielder and having very little success at it. "I understand that you are feeling…_tired_…but, surely, listening to me for four hours cannot be that taxing?"

Wolfram moved to the side, essentially upstaging Yuuri and blocking the adviser's view of him. "If you want to assign homework, I'll allow it to be only half of a page and I'm his tutor."

"Half a page?!" The world was definitely coming to an end. There would be no lovely four hour stretch of time with just the two of them—alone. Now it was barely an hour with a break where, he was certain, Wolfram would whisk the young maou away.

"Either that," Wolfram growled with a little fang easing out of the corner of his mouth, "or I shall go to Big Brother and tell him that you refused to go lightly on the king when he's wearing that damn collar." Wolfram's right hand was curling into a tight fist, quickly being followed by the opposite hand. And Yuuri thought that the temptation to fight Günter was there. Oddly, it all seemed so bizarre with Wolfram just standing there wearing only a night shirt, crawling seductively up his right thigh no less, with clinched fists and that adorable fang hanging out.

"Well…" Günter pouted.

Wolfram's face rearranged itself again, now that the fire Mazoku was certain that the adviser was going to back down. _Now, for the final blow._ He took a step forward and asked, "Or don't you care about his health?"

Günter placed both hands in front of his mouth in surprise and he turned in horror to his king. "Oh, I care! My sincerest apologies if I gave the impression otherwise…!" Oddly, the words could still be understood even though they were muffled by his hands.

Yuuri dropped the covers from his face and rubbed his messy raven hair with an embarrassed grin. "It's not a big deal…"

"But, to me, it is a big deal!" Wolfram countered with arms crossed. "And I'll fight, argue, and throw fireballs at anyone who causes trouble." The green eyes were serious. Wolfram was defending his precious person and he would not back down. "So, inform Conrad there will be no jogging today."

"Ummm…uh…_please_?" Yuuri added to soften the order.

"Of course," Günter agreed with a profound bow before leaving. And Wolfram, still protective, watched him go until the door finally shut.

Wolfram turned away, letting his arms fall to his sides.

"You know, I'm feeling better today," Yuuri said timidly, trying to reassure Wolfram as well as calm him. Maybe, that was what he needed. "I'm just tired of sleeping and I want to get this kink out of my back."

Wolfram shrugged nonchalantly about it, circling the bed to Yuuri's side to draw the covers back. In the next moment, he had Yuuri's black uniform on a wooden hanger and his small bucket of bath things. Laying them all on the foot of the bed, the blond made a return trip to the closet.

"I'm sorry," Wolfram said quietly as he approached with his own things. "I shouldn't have taken change without telling you first. But, we need to change your routine for the short-term." He tried to busy himself to keep that damn awkward feeling from twisting in his gut. This was the kind of impromptu "I'll take over your life without telling you first" kind of behavior his mother was always famous for. She had a flair for it, too. Was he turning into her? Hell, he hoped not.

Without warning, the collar lit up. "Ugh! No, not again!" Frustrated, Yuuri put his fingers under it—trying to pull it away or, at any angle he could think of, to avoid contact with his skin. His dark eyes widened as Wolfram knocked his fingers away and grabbed the collar with both hands, suspending it to the point that the metal collar no longer touched him. Yuuri felt relief. Wolfram, on the other hand, didn't fare so well. The collar siphoned Wolfram's fire magic—draining it at an incredible rate and making him fatigued even though the day had just started. His fingers shook in fists that were determined not to let go until the glow faded, no matter how much his body wished for it to stop. Wolfram refused to give in. Yuuri had faced this over and over along with the slow drain that happened when the collar wasn't glowing. Wolfram had the power, the tenacity, and the resolve to protect Yuuri. And, he'd do it, too, come Hell or high water.

_D-Damn…_ Wolfram's head lowered, blond hair falling into his eyes and breathing labored. He remembered the vow to find a way to remove the collar and refueled himself with hatred for the metallic collar in his hands.

"Wolf!" Yuuri tilted his head, looking over at him. "You've got to stop doing this!"

"Make me." He laughed the words in a husky tone, sexy. But the double black knew he was covering up. He understood all too well what it felt like to be the collar's prisoner.

Yuuri tried to get Wolf to let go, but lacked the strength. Finally, he settled for holding Wolfram's wrist and tugging at it feebly. "Please…you can't keep doing this for me. You just…can't…"

The glow faded and the blond took a breath, letting it out between his teeth. The wimp could be so impossible.

"Why? Because…you'll feel guilty? Because you'll think you owe me?" Wolfram dropped his fatigued arms to his sides. Sword practice never felt like this—arms of pure lead. "I don't care about any of that."

Yuuri shook his head. "Then…why?"

Shoulders slumped, he pushed himself to go on. He wouldn't break. He could do this. With effort, Wolfram collected his things for the bath and gave a sidelong glance. "If you don't know why, then there's no point in telling you anything."

Asking "why" was a dim-witted thing to do. The question alone bordered on a lie. It wasn't as though he didn't realize. He recognized the signs. In the back of Yuuri's mind, he always knew and understood what Wolfram wanted. The problem was accepting those feelings was easier said than done. Uncomfortable. Yes, that's what it was. So, it was much easier to play dumb. After all, everyone was used to the "oblivious Yuuri." And it was such an easy part to play.

"Wolf, I…"

"Just drop it, Yuuri."

The double black nodded shakily and reached for his things, too. It was time to make the long trek—or so it seemed now—to the royal baths. "I'm sorry," he whispered in an undertone. That was what his heart told him to say.

"I know, Yuuri," Wolfram sighed, turning away defensively. "I know."

* * *

They were moving down the hall at a snail's pace. To Wolfram, it was a stroll and, to Yuuri, it was a mountain climb.

"Could we wrap the collar in gauze or cloth, maybe?" Yuuri wondered out loud—anything to help the situation and, by just talking, alleviate the miserable silence between them.

"We tried it," the blond said, "but it didn't work. It just kept glowing over and over…trying to suck the life out of you. Finally, it managed to…burning hot at that… and you were flailing on the bed. I had to help hold you down before you hurt yourself and…"

"Sorry for mentioning it," he cut in. Yuuri tried to smile in the hopes of lightening the mood.

The blond frowned into his small wooden bucket of bath supplies. "You were out for quite awhile, so…thankfully…you don't remember." Then, his voice took on a more determined tone, "Yuuri, that collar needs to be taken off and we'll find a way. I hear that Anissina wants to have a meeting about it later on today. Let's hope she's got something good to tell us."

Yuuri gave a hum of agreement and continued on even though his legs felt like they were walking waist deep in wet cement. And it was no surprise at all when the double black tripped over his own feet. Once again, Wolfram took charge, grabbing him by the forearm and, when the young king continued to sway, he edged over—allowing Yuuri's bucket of bath things to balance precariously on top of his own. The narrow, yellow shampoo bottle tipped over and began leaking slowly into the bottom. It was a mess. The blond rolled his eyes in frustration until he heard them.

Suddenly, Wolfram tore himself away from his thoughts. He turned his head and stared worriedly.

Footsteps.

The blond went back to Yuuri's side, still trying to steer him by the forearm. Heart beating harder, and he tried, yet again, to get them to the royal baths. The door was not that far away.

So close. So very close.

Yuuri was beginning to show signs of fatigue—especially his face.

However, the footsteps continued. Too fast. Too steady a march.

Yuuri, by now, had noted Wolfram's anxious state. "What's up?" The double black asked the question and then stumbled three paces forward. A face-plant into the stone floor would have been the result had Wolfram not caught his forearm. Instead, Yuuri's body swung by the limb at an uncomfortable angle—toes barely on the floor.

Wolfram narrowed his green eyes. "They're going to see you like this." He placed Yuuri on his feet again.

The young king worried his lip, noting that, even now, his limbs and torso were slumped, limp. "It's…I…uh, kind of…know…" He forced a few more steps, trying to rush now, before tripping again. Weak as a newborn.

"It can't be helped." Wolfram stopped, steadied the double black, and allowed his pale hand to slide from Yuuri's forearm down to his palm. He laced fingers with Yuuri before the other could react. "Just stand there…as long as you can," he hissed lowly.

"Wolfram!" Gwendal barked from the far end of the hallway. He trudged forward with his shadow stretching far before him.

Instinctively, the blond's fingers tensed. "Yes, brother." He tried to look casual and had, thanks to a childhood filled with sneaking cookies from the kitchen just before dinnertime, done a good job of it. "Were you looking for me?" He angled his head up to look in the man's eyes.

"I learned from Günter that you're changing Yuuri Heika's schedule…on, quite possibly, a whim…without filling me in on the whole situation ahead of time. So, what I need to know is…" Then, his eyes traveled down to the hands clasped together. He noticed the gentle shaking. The nervousness. How pale Wolfram looked. Two sets of eyes a bit too wide, worried.

They were getting ready for a bath—one bucket balanced on top of another. Oh, the symbolism.

Wolfram turned his head, teeth almost visibly gritted. "I apologize," he said quickly.

Yuuri looked at the entwined hands and then back up—face blushing hard. "We're…uhh…sorry and everything."

Gwendal coughed uncomfortably into his fist. This was a situation that he knew he would have to face someday. "Someday" was, apparently, today. "Well, I'll allow it to pass this time. However, in future, I insist on being consulted regarding all changes around here." He leaned in his little brother's direction. "And I want full details…ON EVERYTHING."

Yuuri blinked back, not comprehending it in the slightest while Wolfram felt his face burn with shame. The only saving grace would be that Yuuri "O' Clueless One" Heika would not realize it at all.

"And for the record," Gwendal added as he walked away, "I expect you two to give the _appearance_ of remaining chaste until the wedding day."

"CHASTE?!" Wolfram bellowed for all of the maids and guards to hear down the next three hallways.

"_APPEAR_?!" Yuuri shouted, now getting the drift and almost fainting dead away. He lost his balance and Wolfram was quick to steady him by pulling on their clasped hands accompanied by a deep growl. It didn't help matters when Yuuri fell and collapsed against Wolfram's chest, clinging to it to stay upright.

"YES!" Gwendal shot back without looking over his shoulder. He'd just put his foot down and he wasn't going to revise that commandment. It was just the way things had to be in Blood Pledge Castle. Considering how carefree their mother was, Wolfram had to be protected as much as possible. Damage control. That's what it was.

The double black, now fully on his feet again, turned back to his laced fingers only to discover that Wolfram was busy separating them.

"I'm sorry for that," Wolfram muttered bitterly. "But I couldn't let anyone see you…_weak_. You've been clumsy and awkward in the past, but not to this extent. I don't want anyone feeling sorry for you." He looked into onyx eyes with a sincere expression. "I know what it's like for people to stare as you pass by and suddenly whisper behind their hands…to look your way with eyes full of unwanted and unneeded sympathy." The blond ran his fingers through his hair. "Maybe, I've lived that way a little too long…and it's okay, because it's me. I can handle it. But I don't want that for you. Never for you." He gripped Yuuri's forearm a little too tightly and began, once again, the final trek to the door to the royal baths. "Pity…the real thing…chips away at your soul…bit by bit…until you can feel the hole in your heart." Wolfram cringed at the mental picture of Yuuri in his place. "I'll spare you that life if I can."

Yuuri's black eyes went to Wolfram curiously. "Why would anyone feel sorry for you? You have everything that anyone could ever want."

He shook his blond head at that. Yuuri was truly dense if he lacked that basic, common knowledge. Wolfram opened the door with "Let's just forget I said anything in the first place. We'll be late for breakfast if we don't hurry… and Greta…Greta will miss us." He handed over Yuuri's wooden bucket.

Greta was the perfect distraction, the perfect excuse. Yuuri did it all the time. Now, it was his turn to get a taste of it.

Disappointed, the double black clutched his small, wooden bucket to his chest. "That means…you don't want to talk about it, huh?"

"It's no big deal," Wolfram said evenly.

But they both knew it was a lie.

* * *

"And that's how I managed to get this invention to work!" Anissina practically crowed with part of her new invention raised triumphantly in her right hand.

The Cuts-Like-Magic-Kun seemed to be, for all intents and purposes, a regular-looking pair of silver tin snips 180 mm long with the exception that out of the top, yellow handle came a long and somewhat cumbersome cable. The black cable snaked its way to the incredible machine that drew magical power from the user, processed it through the machine (which was shaped like a toaster oven with green vacuum tubes perched on top), and back again—allowing powerful, precision metal cutting with the simple snipping action of scissors.

The red haired inventor was so proud.

Gwendal eyed the machine with barely masked concern as did Günter. To play it safe, Gissela was there with her pink-haired assistant and two medicine boxes. Murata, in the role of Great Sage, stood by the door, pulling his collar up to hide his latest collection of purpling love bites. And Conrad, having no special skills beyond his sword or magical medical knowledge, stood by for moral support of his godson.

In the background, leaning somberly against a wall of old science journals, Wolfram took in the scene with a deep frown growing while he eyed Yuuri—now sitting on a barstool in the lab with his back facing him.

Something felt…_off_. But there was not much he could do about it. Maybe, it was instinct. Maybe, it was his knowledge that Anissina's machines had a nasty habit of exploding. Wolfram straightened and rested his hands squarely on his hips. If necessary, he'd dive in and see if Gissela needed any help healing Yuuri. He had some field experience healing soldiers.

There it was again, a feeling against his heart. But this sensation—if that's what he could call it—was not enough to cancel everything. Yuuri was growing weaker by the day. They had to try something. They just had to. Anything. Anything at all—if only to get the damn collar off. Maybe, Yuuri wouldn't come out of it entirely unscathed. But, at the very least, he'd be free. And Wolfram wanted him to be free. He'd made that vow—as sacred as a marriage vow—and he'd keep it, no matter the cost.

"Gwendal, if I can have you here and Günter…please stand here." The red haired inventor placed the men side by side. Günter's right hand was positioned by the inventor so that he touched the end of the handle, and Gwendal was positioned somewhat more awkwardly. He had the cutters, jaws fully opened, ready to cut.

"Günter, you'll be powering the machine. So, keep in contact with the top handle. Gwendal, you'll do the actual cutting." She turned to everyone in the room. "Questions?"

Wolfram stepped forward, circling around Yuuri. "I volunteer to take the place of anyone who can't do the job." He turned his head left and right, surveying them. "I've been around that thing for awhile now, and no good comes from being exposed to that collar." He pointed to the offending object.

"We'll be fine, Wolfram," Gwendal said smoothly. He hoped that his voice was steady enough to reassure his younger brother. But, the sweat drops he had from just touching Anissina's machine were probably a dead giveaway.

"We will do all we can for our glorious Yuuri Heika," fluffed Günter as he brushed back his white cape one handedly.

Wolfram snorted as a response with arms folded across his chest but he didn't move. And Yuuri, nervous as he was, felt somewhat better knowing Wolfram was close at hand. Some part of him, the frightened part that worried the collar would shrink suddenly, killing him by asphyxiation, needed a hand to hold. He looked to Wolfram's chest where the blue-clad arms were still folded.

If he could just be brave enough, even in front of all these people, to reach out to the blond bishonen…

_If only…I… _He lifted his eyes met emeralds._ Wolfram, I need…you…Why can't I say that?_

Without warning, the machine's wheels and gears began to grind dangerously into life. Small as it was, it promised doom and hissed steam from the poorly welded seams. The red haired inventor had switched the thing on and Günter, more than a bit flustered, was still taking hold of the end with slim fingers and white knuckles. It took effort to fuel the machine. He began to perspire with the hard labor—sending his magic, in brief gusts, along the cable and into the machine which was now churning out smoke from burning oil.

Certain they weren't going to have much time, Gwendal tried moving the jaws. They sprung forth, into life, and Yuuri leaned back—fearful he'd have his nose snipped off or, maybe, worse. He'd heard about those kind of things from 1970's yakuza movies on late night TV.

"It looks like we're ready!" Anissina cheered, waiting with a clipboard in hand. This was very important. She had to take notes.

"Fine," Gwendal agreed, taking the metal collar in hand and feeling, for the first time, the eccentric pull. It was a drag on his soul that he wasn't expecting and his heart thumped in his chest as though it was suddenly out of rhythm. Gwendal tightened his fingers on the collar and closed the jaws on the Cuts-Like-Magic-Kun—snipping through the metal.

Yuuri cringed and turned his head to the side. The cut metal curled on the edges as though someone had used a dull can opener. He was sure, though, that the metal was incredibly sharp. He was only grateful that the collar wasn't healing itself as it had done when they first tried to file it off back at the start.

"Just as I said, the key to making this invention was to use the same metal and metallic process as the original collar. So, Wolfram breaking that small piece off was serendipity," Anissina went on as she took notes of the time they started and how much progress Gwendal had made. "Because the collar probably won't sense a break, with the cutters being made of the same metal, all should work out fine."

Gwendal felt himself beginning to sweat hard behind his neck, lower back, and underarms. His muscles tensed and his arms felt heavy. He could see, in his mind's eye, his magic flowing out of him at a rate he couldn't even begin to fathom how to slow down or stop. The metal collar and Gwendal's earth magic seemed to link naturally: moving, shifting, flexing. Gwendal tried to focus on steadying his hands and cutting straight. He prayed to Shinou, and anyone else he could think of, to get him through the next five minutes. If he could do that much...

And, then, the room swayed with a singular, stomach-churning movement. Gwendal's legs refused to obey him as the collar lit up and came to life.

The collar opened a magical floodgate between them and Gwendal could not hold back his scream.

The room drowned in it.

"Gwendal!" Günter gasped, trying to wrap an arm around the administrator's waist without letting go with his other hand. He did his best until Gwendal's legs buckled under him and Günter forgot himself—taking the tall Mazoku into his arms before he hit the ground.

It was pure instinct that made him do it.

The cutters fell to the stone floor.

"No!" Yuuri struggled with the rapidly shrinking metal collar—wrestling with it as Conrad and Gissela jumped forward. But they immediately made way as Wolfram rushed in. He bullied his way and stepped on toes that he didn't care about.

He was choking. Yuuri's eyes were too wide, desperate. His hands were cut by the remnants of the collar and blood streaked down.

Wolfram was forced to pry the wimp's hands away in order to grab the half-way chewed up collar—cutting his own hand on it in the process. Like the double black, blood spilled down his palm and onto the stone floor. In an instant, he had the cutters again in his right hand. And, even without Günter's magic, the blond managed to work them through sheer willpower.

"Yuuri…"

_You will live on._

_You will not leave me._

_Even if I never meant anything to you, you've meant the world to me._

_Do not give up, I cannot let you._

_I'll hold you up when you're weak and hide your flaws to the world._

_I'll give in… only if I must… and accept your fate humbly._

_Taking your place would be my greatest honor and regret…because, soon enough, you'll forget I was ever by your side. A memory told in old stories._

_But that is the way of things._

The snips shut again and again. The pull on his magic became greater with every crunch and groan of metal. And there was nothing he could do about it. No way to hold back. The collar took what it wanted.

Wolfram was dying.

He knew it, gritting his teeth as he pushed on.

_But, it would be worth it because, for one moment in my lifetime, I could protect my precious person. _

Yuuri looked desperately into his eyes. At him. Only at him.

The two of them balanced on the cusp.

With effort, the snips shut again.

_And in this moment, you belong to me. For that, I am truly thankful. Of all the moments we had together, at least this one wasn't a lie._

There was only a thin strand of metal and Yuuri would be free. But the pull was so strong and the collar was shrinking rapidly between his fingers—pushing his fingernails into Yuuri's neck. The double black panicked as a strand of metal the thickness of piano wire cut into him.

_No choice. I have to…_

Wolfram closed his fingers around the metal strand, pulled it away as far as he could, and warmed his fingers—making them grow hotter and hotter. White hot, the metal began to soften and Yuuri screamed as the heat burned into him. Wolfram had his arm around the double black's waist—keeping him still.

Yuuri was burning. Wolfram was burning.

Yuuri had tears streaming down both cheeks, head thrown back, and made what should have been screams coming out as frantic, tortured sounds. Wolfram tore at the metal. He used his other hand, now, to break it—snapping the wire collar into pieces and dropping them to the ground.

Exhausted, Yuuri fell backwards—caught by a very relieved Conrad who had been shouting at his little brother the whole time. The others crowded around their maou, making sure he was okay. Gissela issued orders to her assistant and a special, healing tea was being served up.

"Are you okay, Heika?" Anissina asked, eyeing the reddening burns on Yuuri's throat.

A green glow was coming from Gissela's hand as she hovered it over the double black. "These seem worse than they are. I think I can take care of them quickly enough." In seconds, the skin seemed to repair itself with only new, pinkish skin, left behind.

"I don't think this will even leave a scar," she bragged lightly. Murata patted her on the shoulder.

Yuuri smiled at the healer. It was good to hear. "Thank you," he said, but it's still a little sore." He poked at the skin and winced.

"Are you sure you're fine, Heika?" Günter asked worriedly. He was still supporting Gwendal who was trying to mask his own worry for the young maou standing before him.

"I'm okay," he assured, finding his footing again.

There was a tug on Wolfram's blue uniform sleeve and, hazily, he tilted his head down. "G…reta?" He breathed the name.

The child with chocolate curls looked up at him expectantly. "Is it okay now? Can I be here and see everything?" Her head was turning left and right. Her eyes followed the group that, now, seemed to be making its way out the door with mumblings of "Let's see what's in the kitchen" and "cakes and cookies" and "herbal tea will be good for burns," etc.

Wolfram looked at her with tired eyes, the color of greenish bottle glass. "Do me a favor?"

The child nodded but, clearly, she wanted to join the small crowd exiting the room. She was antsy, almost prancing in place.

Wolfram could see it and smiled wryly. "Hug me?"

"Sure!" She gave Wolfram a rough hug and smiled proudly as she did it. It felt good to be loved by someone as beautiful as Wolfram.

"Do me another favor?" he asked.

She blinked curiously. "Another one?"

He thumbed at the door wearily. Gwendal was disappearing through it, tagging along, with his usual scowl gradually returning to him. "Greta, chase after Yuuri for me…okay?"

Greta nodded excitedly. She just couldn't wait. "I'm gonna get Yuuri!" And, with that, she charged out of the room without a single goodbye.

Wolfram, alone now, lowered his head. He was freezing and tried to wrap his arms around himself to keep warm. "Thank you for holding me one last time, Greta." The blond wondered if he could make it to the door and all the way down to the royal bed chambers. That was where he wanted to be—the place where he was with Yuuri, just the two of them. That time together always meant the most.

Like an old man, Wolfram tried to take a shaking step forward only to slip on a broken piece of metal, dropping down to his knees. And, then, he fell—hard—and curled into a ball.

The stone floor robbed the last of the heat from his body.

"I'm so cold…but I can't shiver."

All of the colors in Anissina's lab were fading into darkness. "I've spent my magic…all of it." In his heart, he laughed at the irony. He was crumpled, pathetically, in a heap on the floor in Anissina's lab, the very last place he ever wanted to be.

_At least…I'm alone…_

_Born alone, live alone, die alone…_

_No pity._

His soul forced a smile. He'd always known that it took energy to live, but he never understood how much energy it would take to die.

The small, candle-like flame within him brightened briefly and then faltered—flickering unevenly. Trying to wink-out.

A voice was drawing near, a half-echo from the hallway as it entered the lab.

"Wolfram," Yuuri called jadedly. "Wolf? Are you still in here…pouting…just because everyone's with me and…?"

A beat.

"WOLF!"

Wolfram thought he felt someone lifting up his body—cradling him and placing something warm against his chest. …_Perhaps…_ But he faded away after that with a sad heart. He wouldn't even have the honor of dying alone and with dignity.

What a life this had been.


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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The Maou stared down at Yuuri with malicious eyes. What his other "self" was proposing was dangerous and, even if they were successful, there was no guarantee that Wolfram would even agree to return. What an idiot this young man was.

The clouds around them were darkening. Maybe, it was fog at sunset. It was impossible to tell.

"Look, I want to try. Please," he pleaded, "don't ask me to give up without trying first." Yuuri gave an unwavering look at the ancient spirit. "I have to do this!"

"Had I no love for the young fire wielder, wouldst thou believe aid would be granted from the likes of me?"

Yuuri looked away. "I've known for awhile now that you…" He cleared his throat by coughing uncomfortably into his fist in much the same way Gwendal always did. "…You have strong feelings for Wolfram."

The black slitted eyes narrowed at the young king. "Why acknowledge my regard? My heart has not been of any concern…and has not been taken into account…since the beginning."

"It's not that, really… It's…" Yuuri shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched slightly. "I know how you feel…I, somehow, feel what you feel…as though it's part of me." He looked around him with the purple-blue of twilight sinking in. "Anyway…um… So, how do we get there?"

The ancient spirit shook his head "no." "Thou must journey alone…" He pointed to a dimly lit flagstone path that was covered in moss. Now that his attention was made to it, there seemed to be a bright point of light in the distance—as though someone had set a fire. And, maybe, there was a shadow there—someone sitting by the fire, perhaps.

"T-This way, huh?" Yuuri smiled awkwardly as he stepped onto the first of many flat stones.

"However, be not astonished shouldst thou return alone. He may not wish this life again."

The double black kept going, his eyes never leaving the distant fire. "And that won't happen," Yuuri assured, squaring his shoulders as he walked along the path, "because you'll hate me and I'll hate myself."

"Consider my words," the maou called after him.

"Yeah," Yuuri returned, "I'll keep you in mind."

* * *

Wolfram sat before the jaunty little fire and frowned to himself. He'd been through this before—many times, in fact. But, this was different and it didn't make sense.

The blond was sitting on what appeared to be a rather large fallen log. Flickering before him was the remnants of what was once a great bonfire. It had burned down to embers at one point. And the thought, briefly, was what a wonderful orange glow would greet him before the last of the fire died out. It always did that. No matter how many lifetimes that he lived, his element was always fire and his story ended the same way—with an unearthly orange shine in between white hot logs and embers riding the wind.

Well, almost anyway.

_This time, I'm not so sure about…_

Wolfram wrapped his arms around himself. The fire wasn't enough. It should have been fading away, but it wasn't. Worse yet, the cold remained. And that seemed cruel somehow. Wolfram hated whoever or whatever was doing this to him.

This nightfall was a place to shed the skin from his last life. A place of purification.

_What happened?_

There it was again. Someone was calling to him. Wolfram couldn't tear his eyes from the fire. But the voice irritated as well as haunted. His mind was on the edge of remembering.

_A voice? Only one? _

A wave of cold air hit him.

_...Too soon..._

The dawn had not come and he was not yet ready.

A tone, sounds. Words but no meaning. The voice was by his side, now, saying something but the significance of it all slipped like sand between his fingers. Maybe, these things didn't matter. Maybe. Then, he felt it, a warm hand on his and something hit him in the chest—_felt_ but not seen—and, for the first time, Wolfram was able to move.

Next to him, seated on the same log, was Yuuri in his black school uniform. And, clearly, from his face, tone, and gestures, he was in distress.

"Wolfram? Can you hear me? Please, Wolf, look at me!" He shook the Mazoku's shoulder with his free hand. "I'll do anything. Just talk to me! You can yell, okay?"

"I…" The blond peered at him as through a haze, his mouth still hanging open slightly. Understanding had not yet reached him until he found himself uttering the name "Yuuri?" and it all fell sharply, painfully, into place. He knew Yuuri. He knew who he was.

The double black broke into a relieved, wide grin. Wolfram was looking at him! He could see him and they could talk at last! This was the first step to making everything better again.

Yuuri grabbed Wolfram by the shoulders and reeled him into an embrace. Green eyes widened at that. Closeness. Touching. Now, it all came flooding back—every last detail. Yuuri falling off a horse. Yuuri falling onto his ass in front of everyone. Yuuri slapping him across the face and not taking it back. A duel. Yuuri disappearing in water over and over again. Yuuri returning from Earth dripping wet. Yuuri and Greta eating at the table. Greta's new lavender dress. She was twirling around in it and Yuuri was laughing at how cute she was.

"Wolfram, I was so scared there for a minute…" A squeeze followed it and Wolfram allowed the arms to hold him. He rested his chin on Yuuri's shoulder.

"You're…here…" Wolfram spoke the words, his voice far away. Why Yuuri was here was a mystery to him. It made no sense. He should be fine. Yuuri and the group had been walking away from him, turning the corner down a corridor at Blood Pledge Castle.

The double black leaned his head against Wolfram's wavy hair. "You have no idea what I've had to do to get to this point…to reach you, Wolfram." He stroked the fire Mazoku's back as the shadows and light from the bonfire slid over them. "You kept your promise to free me from the collar, but…in exchange…" His voice broke and holding Wolfram against his chest was the only way he could calm himself for the moment. He needed to prove to himself, by holding him, that Wolfram was really there. When he was able to speak again, he continued with "You exhausted your magic…all of it! That thing drained you of your power until you had nothing left!"

Wolfram's lips curled upward into a smile. He pushed Yuuri away from him a little so that he could see his face.

"It was worth it, Yuuri. I regret nothing."

Yuuri lowered his head. "But I do…"

"Let it go, Yuuri, nothing is gained by holding on. It's the way of things." A smile followed it and Yuuri blinked at the person next to him. This was Wolfram and it _wasn't_ Wolfram.

The eyes were different. No longer were they bright like emerald jewels. They were older and faded. When Wolfram scooted back a little, he folded his arms against his chest and tilted his head to the side but with a mature, almost parental manner. When he turned back to glance at the fire, Wolfram's expression, Yuuri realized, mirrored Murata's. Eyes that had seen too much, remembered too many things, and deeply regretted his eternal separation from his precious people. Elation, melancholy, and despair: all in one.

"Wolfram, I…" Yuuri touched his cheek and Wolfram, strangely, allowed it without a blush or a grumble of embarrassment. "We were able to heal your body, but your soul is…here." He looked around at the nightfall. "Wherever 'here' is."

"Well, that explains my cold spells and the fire brightening," Wolfram chuckled to himself as he eyed the fire again. It was growing warmer, more intense.

Wolfram leaned forward and tucked a raven strand of hair behind Yuuri's ear. Yuuri, in response, lowered his head again in a somewhat bashful Japanese way that Wolfram, at one point in his life, would have called "wimpy." Instead, Wolfram smiled at it. "This is The Waiting Place. It's the point in between." He gestured to the fire. "As this is my element, it always looks like this when I've reached the end of my life. A water wielder would probably be near a pool of water, lake, or waterfall. An earth wielder would stare into a canyon…and so forth." There was a wry smile this time. "In this place, we distance ourselves from what we were, our Soul Task, materialistic things…to gain meaning from what we've learned. Perspective changes, you see. Because life is, of course, an education. That's why we go through reincarnation after reincarnation." He scratched his chin in thought a little. "It may be decided that I'll be sent back and be reincarnated once more…but I hope not."

Wolfram stretched his arms above his head. He flexed his feet and toes. "Oh, that last life was so exhausting!"

"Was?" Yuuri parroted dumbly, not getting it. He had a feeling of foreboding as well which differed greatly from what he usually felt around Wolfram when the stubborn blond grew determined.

"Yes! Just think about it! I had it all this time around. I had money, status, and wealth. I was a prince, no less. And, later, the fiancé to The Demon King. I had my own lands and holdings… Political power…fame…" He laughed wryly again. "I was the blond haired knight on a white horse! I had everything except…" He smiled again, but in a very unWolframish way. It was followed up with a shrug. "I finally realized, from being here, that my Soul Task was to endure life without being loved. Before this life, I had no idea how difficult that would be."

"That's not fair!" Yuuri said, getting angry now. Wolfram was just being impossible and bratty. Did he really need the roster of people in his life who cared? Fine, then, he'd give it to him. "You've got your mother, two brothers, an uncle, Greta…Gissela, Murata, Shinou himself… not to mention countless maids, guards, and staff. Don't these people even count?!" For a second, Yuuri had the impulse to add himself to the list, but held back. He was mad and counting off on his fingers.

Instead of arguing the point, Wolfram crossed his legs and rested his hands in his lap. He was waiting patiently for Yuuri to finish.

"Done?"

"What?" Black eyebrows pushed together.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' But what you don't understand is that my Soul Task was never from your perspective. It was always from mine." He scratched his cheek with an index finger. "I had a mother who threw herself at men shamelessly. I had two brothers devoted to the military and the country. Duty first. Gwendal was grim and you wouldn't have recognized the person Conrad had become thanks to the war. When I wanted attention from them, they gave me things: clothes, money…stuffed animals knitted by hand. What I really craved was…I guess, you could call it 'companionship.' I think that's why Greta meant so much to me. I could give her the childhood I never had."

"Wolfram, I…" Yuuri didn't really know how to end that sentence. In the past, Wolfram never talked about himself. Instead, he'd withdraw into a shell and say that it wasn't a big deal. It was habit and kept Yuuri from digging deeper.

"And then, you came to Shin Makoku," Wolfram went on in the way middle aged men reminisce about their glory days back in college. "I could…after awhile…feel our soul bond in my heart. So, no matter how much my head told me, back when we first met, that I should break the engagement…I just couldn't. So, I fell back on the usual arguments…that I couldn't call off the marriage because of my family status, loss of political power, loss of pride…" The blond chuckled to himself. It was kind of funny now that it was all over and done with, looking back on his life—a view from a height.

"Soul bond?" Yuuri said, curious.

"Oh, that's right! You haven't been here long enough to remember everything." Wolfram smirked a little, like the old Wolfram, and it made Yuuri feel a bit better to know that the person he knew was still inside there…somewhere.

Wolfram scooted back on the log a bit. He placed his hands together, as in prayer, and, then, opened them—palms facing Yuuri with a golden glow. "This should reveal it…I think… You showed me how to do this one time, you know. But that was five lifetimes ago."

Yuuri had heard of the red thread of fate. It was supposed to link destined couples by their pinkie fingers. But, he'd heard of other cultures where souls were joined by the ankles. The double black stared in wonder at the red rope that began at his chest, coiled twice against the log between them, and then reached up to plant itself firmly into Wolfram's chest.

"When we first met," the blond said, running his fingers along the red rope, "we both agreed that we wanted to be together…joined…for eternity. And, we have been since that time." He looked at Yuuri from the corner of his eye slyly. "In one life, I was a prince and you were my adviser. You were there for me when my wife died from her pregnancy. And, no matter how many wives or concubines I took after that, no one gave me comfort and peace of mind the way you did. In our next life, you _were_ my wife and I was a ship's captain." He grinned widely at those times. "All of our six children had your turquoise hair. And trouble. They were such a handful." He scratched his chin in thought. "Now, that I'm in spirit form, I can remember all of our lives together…including the time when we were two crusty, old men in a run down pub called The Horse and Hound. For thirty years, we drank together at our usual place by the window and told dirty jokes every day until the week before I died of a fever." The smile faded from Wolfram's face after that. "It was never my intention to abandon you back then…or to make you feel alone. I stayed with you in that life as long as I could, even when it was painful. After I was gone, you refused to go back to the pub. You said it was too damn lonely." He stroked Yuuri's cheek with a thumb. "It's my fate to die first. And, no matter how many lives we live, you never seem to accept that."

Wolfram reached down by his feet and picked up a twig. He pretended to examine it. "Susanna _Julia_ von Winncott…By the time I was mature enough to know that I had a bond with her, Conrad was already smitten. Near the end of her life, she was probably the only good thing that my brother had. His hair, his body, his mind…all wild…from a certain view point, I suppose. But, he changed when she died. And, when he came back with you…when we all met up and got to know you…" Wolfram twirled the twig between his fingers before tossing it in the fire. "In my heart, I began to feel our connection and..." Wolfram tugged the red rope until something caught his eye and he leaned forward.

Green eyes narrowed. "What is…?"

"Eh?" Yuuri said, not understanding it but trying to look where Wolfram was looking.

Wolfram's fingers ran along the red rope. It was stretched out in places, faded in others, but near the double black's chest the rope had been sawed through more than half way. The cut rope spiraled out, spiky pieces unraveled and splayed out like a small fan.

Wolfram's white fingers touched the edges and his face took on a sad expression. He did his best to cover it with a thin smile, but it took more effort than he ever thought possible to do it.

"What happened?" Yuuri asked, now looking at the rope, too.

"You want out," Wolfram said quietly. His fingers brushed against the edges again—stiff, scratchy, and almost sharp. "You want your freedom…from me."

Yuuri shook his head "no." "That isn't possible. Until now, I didn't even know we had a connection between us. Certainly, not one like this… So, it can't be me."

"It's something only you can do," Wolfram countered softly, trying to mask the pain in his voice. The troubles and trials from the living world were not supposed to have a hold on him anymore. His strong feelings were supposed to be replaced with serenity, peace, and perspective. He bit his lower lip to steady himself.

"No," Yuuri went on, certain. He could see the look on Wolfram's face. He knew that look. And hurting Wolfram was not what he wanted to do and was not why he had come this far.

"Yes, you did." He held back a sigh. "You did it, Yuuri…through word and deed." He tried to sound firm but reassuring. This was what Yuuri needed to know. So, he'd tell him. "Every time you said something that you knew, deep in your heart, would hurt me…you cut a little of the rope. Every time you ignored me…knowingly embarrassed me in front of the court…" The shadows flickered against Wolfram's profile. "The times you ran to Earth to escape me…the times you tolerated me as Greta's second father…took me to the party but never danced with me…"

Yuuri was shaking his head again. This wasn't true. It couldn't be.

"The times, Yuuri, that you let me cry myself to sleep without consoling me…not even once…"

"Oh. Oh, he knew about that," was written all over the double black's face now.

"I knew you were awake, too, Yuuri. But some of the fault…there, I guess…was mine. I stayed in that bed…pretending to sleep by your side because I lied to myself…saying you needed me." Wolfram threaded the rope between his fingers now in an almost contemplative way. "But, I've always wondered… Beyond my element and my temper… What was it about me that was so revolting? I could always see it in your eyes."

Yuuri blanched.

"Forget it." He waved it off. There was no real point to this. "It's over now. There's no need anymore." Then, the green eyes went back to the rope. "This bond between us was never meant to tie you to me against your will." Wolfram gave what he hoped was a sincere smile. He placed a friendly hand on the double black's shoulder. "It was supposed to be a soul-comfort in life. And, in death, I would always be waiting for you on the other side of forever. Eternal companions." The slender hand slipped off Yuuri's shoulder.

The blond could face facts and would.

"But, now that I think about it, I might be able to help you after all…."

_It's the way of things, Yuuri._

Yuuri shook his head at that. They had strayed so far from the point that it was ridiculous. "What I'm trying to tell you is that your body is healed! All we have to do is get you back into your body and things will be fine again."

"Go back to…what…exactly?" The green eyes were curious now. "I've learned what I needed to learn in this life." He pulled a small twig from the edge of the log and tossed it into the fire. "I know that you cannot make someone love you…no matter how much your heart aches for it. You cannot earn love through devotion, kindness, or fidelity." Green eyes met black. "And when your love smiles at another…instead of at you…" Wolfram ran his fingers through his hair. "I hope you never know what that's like. And, you probably won't…which is a good thing."

His attention returned to the red rope.

"But I can help you one last time, Yuuri. Think of it as a final gift..._freedom_." Wolfram fisted his end tightly. "If we both pull backwards, I think we can break our bond."

"What?" Yuuri said, jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what his ears were telling him.

"I don't think it will hurt you. It hasn't so far." Wolfram tried to smile. This was goodbye after all. Everything ends. Why had he never thought of that happening between them? "And if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, just visit my grave. I promise…I'll listen. It's the least I can do for you now, because I didn't do much of that in life."

Wolfram squeezed his eyes shut and pulled. "Be happy, Yuuri."

"Wolfram!"

A desperate hand reached out for the blond.

* * *

Standing at the boundary and keeping it open with his magic, The Maou spirit remained ever watchful. The waiting wasn't difficult, but this would have taken too long had time any meaning for him. In the physical world, he knew, it had been three solid days.

A smile tugged his lips when he heard the voices bickering.

"Yuuri, you're going too fast. I can't stay on a path I can't see."

"That's your fault for staring into the fire for too long. It ruins your night vision."

"That's what you're supposed to do—stare. That's why you go there. Hello? Are you even listening to me?"

"Nope."

There was a brief silence and The Maou rested his hands on his hips. Those two were always fun together. Even when he was hidden inside of the double black, watching through his eyes, he enjoyed these times. They often bickered like an old couple—which they were—in the skins of young men.

Wolfram's voice was getting nearer, louder. "Look, Yuuri. Even if I manage to get back into my body, we won't remember what was said. We'll go back to the way things were. And you'll continue to cut the tie that is between us. It will all end the way it's destined to."

"Cut the tie…?" The Maou muttered darkly to himself. It wasn't clear until Yuuri emerged, leading the way, with fingers laced with Wolfram. The red rope was still there—fading but there. And the ancient spirit could see what Wolfram was referring to.

Yuuri bristled as The Maou explored the cut with his own, rather large, fingers. "I…I just…" the young king began lamely and wondered, for a moment, if they'd get into it. The double black didn't want to give excuses for the damage he'd done even though he had no idea he was doing it in the first place.

"You're…Yuuri," Wolfram said with warm recognition, looking up at The Maou spirit with a smile. There was a sense of delight mixed in with it. "I'm glad I could see you, too…Yuuri."

The last of the red rope disappeared from sight as the ancient spirit picked up a "rag doll" Wolfram into his arms, bridal style.

"Weary?" the deeper voice asked knowingly.

"Yes," Wolfram said, feet kicking a little and his arms were now circled around The Maou's neck. He leaned in, looking over the spirit's shoulder and down at a more youthful "Yuuri" who was trudging along, head lowered.

The smaller double black frowned to himself again.

"In what manner, with what sweet words, did my other self sway?" The Maou asked as they walked along. He had to admit that he was curious. Usually, spirits that made the journey to The Waiting Place were preparing themselves for the Cycle of Rebirth or The Heavenly Plane.

The blond "humphed" a little bitterly. "Could I ever deny anything from either of my…Yuuris?" He closed his green eyes, exhaustion coming quickly. His fingers dug into the material of the spirit's clothes, trying to hold on with the drag of the physical world coming closer. "It's something I've always hated about myself."

The dark, rumbling voice next to Wolfram chuckled lightly and with a sexy edge. "But Wolfram is so very much desired and treasured."

A non-committal "As you say" was followed by a sigh.

"Then, what of my heart?" The Maou asked. There was hope in there somewhere.

Half asleep now, Wolfram yawned with his head rolling slightly on The Maou's shoulder, "Then, I'll accept half of Yuuri's heart…"

The Maou stopped in his tracks and eyed—with dark slitted pupils—his younger and more immature self. "Mark my words, I shall accept his offer."

Yuuri nodded in agreement but felt unhappy at the same time. He glanced up at Wolfram who was, now, snuggled into The Maou with a "cat has cream" expression on his face. It was a look he'd never seen before. And, what annoyed him more than anything was that he was—and _was not—_the one causing it. It was as though Wolfram was at ease with his older twin and not him.

The Maou continued their journey back and Yuuri followed glumly at his elbow.

"Wolfram won't remember what went on. At least, that's what he said." The double black glanced up at The Maou toting his precious burden. "Will that be the same for us?"

A shake of the head. "Sadly, we shall recall everything."

"Oh…I see…"

It probably had to do with The Maou's help combined with Shinou and Murata's aid (Well, assistance that he received after the pair finished arguing over something that Murata later referred to as "mostly insignificant.") so that his soul could journey to the place where Wolfram was. And, so, with shame still eating at him, Yuuri continued on with the full knowledge that he would have to live with everything he had learned in The Waiting Place with no one to confess it to and no possibility of reconciliation of his soul with what he had unwittingly done.

A moment before Yuuri stepped into the blinding light, he began to recall glimpses of his patchwork of lives with Wolfram—as acquaintances, friends, lovers, parents, and even good natured rivals.

How lonely his existence would have been without "Wolfram" (or whatever name fate had chosen to call him). The soul was the same even when the body was given a different form. And, with their bond, they would find each other again and again—if it didn't break somewhere along the way.

And Yuuri was determined that it wouldn't break.

He had so much to atone for.

* * *

With a vague headache pressing between his eyes, Wolfram woke up in the royal bed. It was dark in the room and he shifted uncomfortably onto his side, blond hair curling against the silk pillow.

He moved his shoulders followed by hips. There was a stiffness in his lower back—and, possibly, bruising—maybe from taking a hard fall. Falling to the ground. _I guess…_ And his hands felt sunburned. He tried to gently flex his stinging fingers and palms. _Burnt? _He hadn't done that to himself since the time he'd lost control of his magic and set the floral centerpiece ablaze at dinner one night. What was he? Thirty at the time?

"Wolf?" Yuuri said hopefully, instantly awake thanks to the movements to his left.

"Hm?" Rigid fingers went into messy curls, trying to push them out of his face. A habit. But it only made his fingers sting more. "Damn, that's really starting to hurt."

"You're okay!" Yuuri said, practically shouting in his ear.

The headache drummed against Wolfram's eyes and cheekbones, now, like a mask. He had the strength to mutter the word "wimp" under his breath before sinking under the covers to hide from the loud, annoying sounds that originated from the double black next to him.

"Wolf!" Joyfully, he shook what he thought to be a lumpy, goose-down covered shoulder. This was marvelous news. A gift, really, when he thought about it.

"Yes" was moaned piteously more than said.

The double black, thrilled to have Wolfram, dove against him. He pressed the length of his body against the blond's—spooning against him with an arm thrown over for good measure.

Under the covers, green eyes bugged. Wolfram was awake now—very, very awake. He swallowed thickly.

It was dark. _Check._

He was in bed. _Check._

With…Yuuri. Wimpy Yuuri. _Double check._

Wolfram's blond head popped out. Either his bedmate was talking in his sleep or this was all a bizarre dream. The blond hoped it was his dream, actually, because he knew it would turn out as usual that neon orange bear-bees would pop out of the closet just when things were getting to the good part between them. "Y-Yuuri…" His voice was graveled and hesitant. "Are you…ummm…?" The arm squeezed him around the middle.

"Wolf." Yuuri's face was now buried in golden curls. Wolfram's scent was summer, both sunflowers and lavender. How he would have missed this had things turned out wrong.

"Yuuri, once you wake up," he said dryly, "you're going to be mortified…holding onto me like this…and hate yourself." He dared to take a peek over in Yuuri's direction. Even in the dark, he could feel the eyes peering at him and a smile greeting him. Wolfram felt Yuuri shift with a pointy chin, now, digging into his shoulder boyishly.

"I don't think so," he answered, his memories flicking back to his time alone with Wolfram in The Waiting Place. "You may not remember it well, but… You spent all of your magic saving me and almost died." Yuuri trembled at the memory of what followed next. "I couldn't get you to wake up and your body felt cold…so cold… I started healing you with my magic before I realized what I was doing. My hands just moved on their own over your chest and it was like I was watching myself from far away."

Yuuri stopped trembling when he realized that Wolfram was holding his hand. It felt good, natural.

Before Wolfram could say another word, Yuuri had scooped him and repositioned his body. Now, the blond head was resting on his shoulder and arms were circling him.

"All I could think of was… 'I need Wolfram back.' That's all. I took charge and I forced Gissela to take you here until I could get help from Shinou at the temple. I made Murata go with me to ask and, I think, that helped." He stroked blond hair. "Forgive me, I had to leave you alone for a time until I could arrange everything."

"You were just afraid," the blond explained away, giving Yuuri's chest a soothing pat with his hand. "Things will calm down soon enough and everything will go back to normal." He smiled thinly and closed his eyes. His prediction would come true soon enough. So, in the meantime, he'd be a little bit selfish and indulge in Yuuri's concern-filled embrace.

There was a pause while Yuuri got up his courage. "I don't want that…whatever 'normal' is…I just don't want that anymore. If it makes no sense… I'm sorry."

The double black cringed as he imagined more rope being cut.

Wolfram pushed himself up on his elbow. The Wimp must have been scared out of his wits. He'd probably never had anyone dear to him die in his arms or come close to it. That would explain all of this. Wolfram snapped his fingers and the candle nearest to him burst into life. The double black squinted.

"I'm fine…I think. And everything will all seem different in the morning. Just wait for the sun, Wimp." The blond tucked an unruly strand of hair behind his pale ear. "So, don't decide everything right away." And, then, a thought struck him. His bedmate might choose to have everyone in the castle awakened and brought in to see a "well Wolfram." And, that would spoil everything. "Better yet, let's just go back to sleep."

The blond curl freed itself and stuck out at an unusual angle, like a little horn. Yuuri laughed at it and reached up—grasping it and sliding the silky strands behind a shell-like ear. He admired his work, much to the blond's astonishment. "Y-Yuuri…"

Onyx eyes took on a look of determination that Wolfram knew only too well.

"What, Wimp?" But his tone was soft and his heart failed him—the very thought of admonishing his bedmate seemed impossible.

That look directed only at him. He dared to hope. A spark. Even if this was all innocent on Yuuri's part, the blond could lie to himself and pretend. It was so easy to do because, as with all fantasies, it was so easy to believe.

And, then, the hand stroked his cheek—following the curve down to the jaw line, tickling the neck and drawing gentle circles around the collar bone.

Wolfram gasped and almost withdrew from the touch. Yuuri's eyes danced. He had no idea such a small gesture could make Wolfram react so much.

"Wolfram," he said with mirth filling his voice, "I have a question for you."

The blond nodded dumbly, not trusting his voice.

"I know a little bit about Shin Makoku courting rituals from Günter's test last week. So, my question is, 'What kind of cute present do I have to give to Gwendal so that he'll consent to let me date you?' Can you think of one?"

Wolfram simply blinked at him, barely breathing.

"A courting gift?" Yuuri chuckled and smiled up. "Can you think of one?" he repeated and, when he still got no response, he inched closer to the blond whose brain seemed to be stuck between gears.

Onyx eyes met wide, shining emeralds.

They were close. Their lips were close. _This is a little bit…fun…_

Wolfram gasped slightly when Yuuri cupped his cheek. "An answer…please…" the double black said, half serious and half teasing.

Yuuri closed the gap and Wolfram tore his face away practically shouting "Piggies!"

"Eh-h-h?" Yuuri scratched his head.

"P-Piggies," Wolfram sputtered with a blush from their "almost kiss." "When you came back from Earth with that green piggy plushy doll-thing for Greta, I n-noticed…umm…" He gave a quick shake of the head to clear it. "I could see Gwendal eyeing it. Something like that would be good."

Yuuri grabbed Wolfram playfully and pulled him down onto his chest again. Arms wrapped around, hugging and nearly wrestling. It felt good. Being together like this felt good in a strange, new way. And their "almost kiss"—he felt slightly disappointed. But, he knew, he'd have other opportunities soon. Wolfram just wasn't ready. So, he'd wait.

"Piggies, huh? I doubt that's the kind of gift I can give that will go down well in the record books as a thoughtful bribe to the head of your household to let me court you."

"Oi, it's not a bribe!" There was indignation.

The double black laughed, head falling back into the pillow. "I'm paying for the honor of your company, right?"

Wolfram glanced at his burned hand when he unconsciously made a fist at the "bribe" comment. And, now that he could see with candlelight, both hands were bandaged. "True," he muttered in a distracted way. It was finally sinking in. He really had been injured badly again, huh? "The traditional gifts among the nobility are silks, horses, 8 barrels of spiced wine, or 5 turkeys."

Yuuri scratched his chin at that. He had to think.

Wolfram turned to him with a troubled expression. "But, are you sure about this? Absolutely sure?" His eyes had a shine to them which Yuuri took to be unshed tears. Wolfram, of course, would be stubborn and not let a single one fall in front of him. Later, perhaps, in bed before falling asleep. "You don't have to do this. I'll remain by your side…until the day comes you no longer need me. And, I'll leave your side without a single _regret_."

In the double black's memory, he could see Wolfram in The Waiting Place. He was smiling. "It was worth it, Yuuri. I regret nothing."

Yuuri clutched Wolfram to him. He would make things change, make things better. But it wouldn't happen all at once. In steps. That's what he had to do. He would win Wolfram's trust little by little—earn it, deserve it, and keep it. And he would do it all the right way, proving to the castle and the country that Wolfram was, indeed, everything to him.

The next morning, while Wolfram was sleeping in—much to the relief of his family—Yuuri was wading into the royal bath with a very confused Conrad watching from the edge of the tub. His thin smile faded the minute Yuuri disappeared and brotherly concern took over. How would Wolfram react once he learned Yuuri was gone—_again_?

The day passed and, much to everyone's surprise, the double black returned the following afternoon with a large, knotted-shut garbage bag.

Still unusually pale, Wolfram was waiting there—sitting on a wooden stool while reading a book to pass the time. He lowered the small volume as the tub's splashing grew nearer.

"Welcome home, Yuuri."

* * *

Gwendal looked up from his desk with a double take. "Yuuri Heika?" What, the Hell, was going on? He was being invaded. People. People. What was this crowd doing here? The Mazoku stood abruptly from his chair.

Entering the room was the double black Shin Makoku Demon King carrying an oversized package decorated in black and silver sparkled gift wrap. His hair was still damp and the wetness from his skin had already seeped through his dry clothes. There was an entourage of maids and servants crowding in from behind—all carrying cloth-covered silver platters of various sizes and shapes. With a knowing grin, the double black motioned for the door to be closed behind him. And it was.

Looking out his bedroom window, now, Gwendal could see Yuuri walking outside with Wolfram, an arm casually slung around his slim shoulders. Wherever they were going, the young maou was in a hurry—stepping jauntily—and Wolfram went along with it, having a contented smile that seemed new to him.

The gruff general sat down at his modest table with a succulent turkey dinner and a goblet of spiced wine. The oversized package was open on his bed with the torn gift wrap curled next to it.

With a pleased smile, Gwendal tucked into his turkey dinner while wearing his gift from Yuuri Heika—silk pajamas with adorable little horses on them. They were cute—terribly, terribly cute.

.

.

----- THE END -----


End file.
